


A Ranger's Lot

by Accidental_Ducky



Series: Sunshine and Shadows [2]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: F/M, Jas's uncle is literally Satan, Protective Gisborne, Sass battles, Slight crossover with Supernatural, basically these two assholes fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 87
Words: 123,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She's not afraid to speak her opinion," he murmurs," she's kind to me, but isn't afraid to admonish me if I've done something she doesn't agree with. When I look at her, I can't stop thinking of everything I would do to keep her safe. She's fearless in every situation I've seen her in and never judges me, she cares so much about the people she's loyal to that it scares me sometimes. And... When I see her face light up in a smile.... It's like I want to do anything if it means it stays there, even if I have to give up everything to make it so."</p><p>"Sounds like true love to me." And it's not until he opens his eyes and the picture doesn't change that he realizes he wasn't describing Marian.</p><p>"Yes, I think it is.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going Through the Portal

Jas woke slowly that morning, the bright sunlight filtering in the room past gauzy curtains making her let out a groan. Pushing her hair off her face, she slowly sits up and stares around her dumbly, wondering when she'd made it back to her bedroom after the caffeine high from the night before. She remembered drinking her tenth cup of coffee around two-thirty in the morning, sending her older brother backward in time to help an ambitious Vizier murder King Tut, and then there was nothing.

She was supposed to do something today, it was important, it was…. What was it?

She furrows her brows, staring straight ahead of her at the lavender-colored wall as she racked her brain for any sort of hint. Flynn had told her it was important before she sent him off last night, he'd told her it was imperative that she didn't forget about it, but he'd also told her not to drink another cup of coffee and she's completely ignored that advice.

A constant beeping kept her distracted from her thoughts—what little ones she had that early in the morning—and she let out a little growl.  _Is it my alarm clock?_  No, she'd thrown that out the window last week. Was someone trying to Skype her? No, she didn't have a social life and her co-workers didn't know how to work a computer.  _So what the hell is it?_  And then her eyes widened in realization and she desperately kicked off the pile of blankets.

Trying her hardest not to trip as she sprinted for her office, she grabbed a pair of pants off the back of her couch as she passed and struggled into them before collapsing in the chair, grabbing the desk to keep from rolling away. The computer screen was flashing a dark red color, the beeping continuing until she muted it.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," she grumbles, typing in the passcode to access the message that had been left behind. Soon a video of her brother filled the screen, Flynn looking as exhausted as she did with his hair sticking up all over the place and his eyes half-lidded as he stares into the camera. He must have left this for her last night while she was making dinner or more coffee.

"Because I know you forgot everything I told you last night," he explains, leaning back in his chair," because you had that last cup of coffee like the idiot that you are, I thought I'd leave you behind this wake-up call."

"Asshole." Flynn lets out a long sigh, leveling a stern look at the camera and pointing at it like he often did to her when she was in trouble.

"Grow up, Jasmine Alexis, and stop calling me an asshole. Anyway, you're to be sent out for a while, field work, and I packed your bags. You're expected to stay there for a few years, so we won't be in contact. Love you, Jas, take care of yourself and remember not to cause too mach damage."

The screen went black and she was left staring at her reflection; thick curls going everywhere, dark circles under her eyes, and the shirt she had on was stained from the previous night's barbecued ribs. She looked more like her twin than ever and that bothered her more than she cared to admit. Dash was nothing more than a career criminal that preyed on old people for their social security checks and murdered whenever it was order without even a second's hesitation. He was currently tucked away in a Russian prison, so at least Jas didn't have to worry about him trashing her house while she was gone.

Resigned with her assignment, she picks up the manila envelope from her desk,  _Jasmine Took_  written on the front in her brother's elegant script, and walks back to her bedroom. She drops the envelope containing her contract on the stacked suitcases before walking into her large closet; it was basically a small room on its own, filled with her clothes, shoes, and childhood keepsakes—mostly consisting of old Polly Pockets and Scooby-Doo memorabilia.

Shucking off the dirty clothes, she quickly pulls on a dark green tank top, jean shorts, and a pair of sandals before sliding on several plain rings and a pair of silver earrings. She grabs her makeup bag—her very livelihood should anyone ask—the silver of her wrist cuff catching her eye. It was a wide band, the silver seared into her flesh and unable to be removed, Celtic symbols engraved into the sides and around the dime-sized emerald set into the front. It was the sign of her servitude to the darkness, a Ranger assigned to keep the mischief going and the scales tilted in evil's favor.

It was a job that she was born into, but she had never been its biggest fan. The darkness—Satan, Voldemort with horns and a pitchfork, take your pick—was growing steadily stronger after centuries of the Rangers doing his bidding, so she wouldn't be able to stop anytime soon. Normally her job is to guard the Portal closest to her house, but now she would have to send herself through the Portal.

With a sigh, she runs a brush through her hair and applies a light coat of makeup once she was back in her bedroom before grabbing the bags and heading out, going straight for the barn where her mare was housed. Tug was waiting for her impatiently, letting out a snort as Jas moves closer, shaking her head upon spotting the luggage.

"I know, Tug," Jas says, readying the Arabian Mare for the trip, tying her bags in place," Flynn has horrible timing, but we'll just have to get through it." Jas climbs onto the saddle, running the tip of her finger over a braid in her horse's mane, smiling at the lilac ribbon keeping it in place. Tug was a constant feature in her life, she'd been just a foal when Jas first saw her and there was an instant connection once Jas got past her fear. "Let's get this over with."

They left the barn at a comfortable trot and headed towards the copse of trees several yards from her modest cottage, easily finding the mirror-still pond in the direct center. It's a mossy green color and reflects the shadows of the trees above it, hidden from the sunlight due to the thick canopy of leaves, and never even rippling when the wind picked up. It was her master's pond, one of two Portals in Oklahoma and the best one in the southern states, so it was closely monitored.

Another Ranger would take up residence in the cottage until she could return from... Where the hell  _was_  she going anyway? Flynn hadn't said and she found herself growing nervous, humming softly. Would she have WiFi there? She shivered at the thought of living without the Internet, her hand covering the cell phone tucked into the side of one of her bags. Tug, impatient as usual, let's out an annoyed whinny, digging a hoof into the soft earth next to the Portal.

"I know, hush," Jas scolds, brows knitted together over brown eyes. "Okay, Tug, let's do this." She urges the mare forward and they slowly descend into the freezing water, the substance crawling over them the further out they go until they're fully submerged in the center. The water swirls around them like a cyclone even as all the air is drawn from their lungs. This part never ceased to scare Jas, one of her hands clutching at her throat in desperation as her eyes clenched shut. 

It was only when her ears popped that she opened her eyes again, taking in a few deep breaths to steady her nerves as the water began to calm. By the time Tug was able to walk again the water was completely motionless, allowing the horse to break the surface. Waiting for her on the other side of the Portal is a man dressed in dark leathers with an impressive scowl on his face, marring the handsome features and making her instantly dislike him. 

Just because they're villains doesn't mean they have to look the part.

"Welcome to Nottingham," the man greets in a deep baritone that made shivers race down her spine. "I am Sir Guy of Gisborne and Sheriff Vaisey sent me to collect you." Jas dismounts once she's on solid ground again, untying the heaviest of her bags and shoving it at the man, smirking when he grunts as it connects with his stomach.

"Make yourself useful, Gilbert."

"It's  _Guy_."

"Don't care." The grin she shoots his way has him grinding his teeth, fingers gripping the bag's strap tighter. She was almost certain that his knuckles would be white beneath his gloves and considering making this an everyday thing. After all, the thing she was an expert at was annoying pretentious assholes; it was second only to her skill with telekinesis. "Come along, we don't want to keep the Sheriff waiting, Gilbert."

"Damn woman."

[Outfits](https://www.polyvore.com/rangers_lot_robin_hood_bbc/collection?id=5195284) [Jas](http://www.polyvore.com/jasmine_took/set?id=206579508) [Dash](http://www.polyvore.com/dash_took/set?id=206580528) [Flynn](http://www.polyvore.com/flynn/set?id=217055487) [Todd](http://www.polyvore.com/todd/set?id=206581082) [Tug](http://www.kriseanhorses.com/salehorses/images/IMG_2823.jpg)


	2. Meeting Vaisey

Nottingham castle was certainly a sight to behold, all dark stone, covered windows, and dark-clothed guards patrolling the grounds; absolutely the type of castle where you'd find an evil monster or a brooding hunchback. Jas rather preferred her home with its green-painted shudders and cheery wallpaper, tucked away in the countryside with only Tug and a few ducklings for company.

Gisborne fit in easily amongst these people, the peasants sending him scared looks before lowering their heads and scurrying past like they had just seen the Devil. It was ridiculous considering her master was still below the earth, gaining his strength from his Rangers and low-level demons.

"Is it always this cheery," Jas quips, watching from her spot atop her mare at the people milling about.

"Do you always talk so much," Gisborne shoots back with a scowl in her direction. She couldn't help it; she hated silences that weren't comfortable. "Why  _do_  you talk so much anyway? I thought Rangers were known for their silences."

"Sure, I can be quiet when I want to be." She shrugs, kicking out at a peasant that had tried to grab her ankle, disgust making her nose crinkle. The ones cluttering the side of the bridge smelled awful, like two-day-old sewage left out in the heat. "The silence comes in handy when I'm sent to spy or kill, but why be silent at any other time, hmm? It's much more fun to speak, let it all out in the open."

"I was serious when I asked why you talk so damn much."

"I'm Southern, it's what we do to pass the time." She can almost feel his dirty look aimed at her back as she urged Tug to canter through the nearly deserted courtyard, taking in the fact that they had a scaffold set up in the center for public hangings, though no nooses dangled from the crossbeams. "Seriously though, why is everything so grim? A little color wouldn't hurt anyone."

"You're a servant of the darkness and you want splashes of color? Isn't that a bit ironic?"  _No, ironic is a bunch of idiots dancing on a plane to a song made famous by a band that died in a plane crash_.

"Not at all." She straightens her back so she's sitting up tall with her shoulders rolled back, settling into a posture that suggested she was of nobility. She's seen her father do this whenever he spoke to someone beneath him, as an intimidation effort, or when he was making grand speeches. "I consider my want of color," she starts, taking on a posh accent," as going against the grain, standing out from the crowd, a rebellion of the grandest kind, a—"

"I get it," he snaps hurriedly as they come closer to the castle," you like to do things considered idiotic by your society." Gisborne dismounts and helps Jas do the same, ending up with his hands on her hips and her looking up at him through her lashes.

"I wouldn't call it stupid." She spoke slowly in her usual accent, a tone that occasionally turned men into jelly when she needed information and could take her time. The only effect it had on Gisborne was that it made his scowl, if possible, deepen as he bends down to whisper in her ear.

"Have no fear, Took, it's stupidity at its finest."

"Has anyone ever called you a horse's ass?"

"No one's ever been brave enough." They hand the reigns over to the stable boys that ran to greet them, Gisborne leading the way into the castle with Jas trailing behind at a languid pace.

"Well, trust me when I say you're the biggest horse's ass I've ever had the displeasure of meeting." She gives him a wink when he pauses outside a door, passing him and shoving the door open, the entrance dramatic enough to make the room's lone inhabitant jerk his head up in surprise. "And you must be the man that runs this place. Know how I knew? 'Cause you're prematurely bald and dress like the perfumed lady that delivers my groceries."

"The Ranger as requested." Gisborne's words were a gruff mumble, his blue eyes locking with her brown ones. "You didn't tell me she'd be such a nuisance."

"And I wasn't told the first person I'd be meeting was a complete douche either, so consider the feeling mutual, Gilbert."

"For the last time, it's  _Guy_."

“Now, now,” Vaisey interrupts, making Jas’s gaze return to him. He looked like he’d be a few inches shorter than Gisborne, balding, crooked teeth, and the makings of a beer gut; dressed in fine linens with a cruel glint in his eyes. _I might not actually despise this one_. “Did I hire a Ranger to be courteous? A clue.” He shakes his head and scrunches up his nose. “No, Gisborne, she’s here to help us do Prince John’s dirty work, and since the two of you are clearly the best of friends, she’ll be staying with you in Locksley.”

 _Scratch that last thought, I might spend my days thinking up creative ways to disembowel him_.

“What,” Gisborne snaps in unison with Jas’s threatening growl. “I will not share a home with her, not even if she was the last woman on this earth! I refuse!” Vaisey looked positively _giddy_ , enjoying their shared anger until his desk began shaking and he lets out a sharp noise of fear.

“What’s happening? Gisborne, do something!”

“What’s the matter, Sheriff,” Jas inquires with a slight narrowing of her eyes,” scared of a little hocus pocus?”

“Stop it!” With more focus than usually required due to the surge of anger, Jas manages to regain control and the desk goes still. “I assume your bags are still packed.” She gives a curt nod, looking less than pleased with the agreement. “Good, then you both can go straight to Locksley and settle in.” She’s been written into the contract between Prince John and her master, she shouldn’t argue over petty things like this, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t show her displeasure. “I think it’s quite a good idea.”

The look Jas sends his way tells him just where he can shove his idea.


	3. The Lord of Locksley and Gisborne's Bruised Ego

" _We'll drink and be jolly an drown melancholy_ ," Jas sings quietly as they ride down another dirt path, the reigns wrapped around her left hand while the right one rests on her leg," _and here's to the health of each true-hearted lad. We'll rant and we'll roam like true British soldiers, we'll rant and we'll roam along the_ —"

"For the love of God," Gisborne growls, turning his harsh glare on Jas. She's been singing since they set out and his nerves have gradually worn down until he couldn't take it anymore; Jas was supremely proud of that fact. The men accompanying them didn't seem to mind, just bobbing their heads along with the sea shanty even though it hasn't been made yet in this realm. _What year is it anyway? Certainly not 2016 since we're traveling by horse instead of car_.

Jas looks around her, spotting nothing of interest aside from a few small birds soaring overhead. Her surroundings were mainly grasslands and gentle slopes that remind her of the landscapes in a child's storybook. It's beautiful, she wouldn't deny that at all, but it would certainly grow to be a dull view day after day.

"So, Gilbert, what do you do for our dear Sheriff," she asks, urging Tug closer to the front where Gisborne was riding. She notices that his jaw clenches at the name, but he doesn't comment this time. _Like that'll make me stop saying it_. "I mean besides escorting fair maidens around."

 _"You're_ a maiden," he counters, looking her up and down from the top of her head to her pink-painted toenails. "Somehow I have trouble believing you haven't been with more men than you can count." She swallows hard as a pang of anguish pierces her breast, thoughts better left alone coming to the front of her mind. Her grip on Tug's reigns tightens as her hands start to shake and she struggles to keep hold of her composure. To her credit, it never showed on her face and Gisborne ignored it completely. "I stay in Locksley as its Lord, I gather money from the peasants for Prince John, and I serve as the Sheriff's private guard on occasion." At the mention of Prince John her hand moves to the right side of her ribs, resting over the pitch black tattoo that formed his name—the name of the person that held her formal contract and so owned her until her master recalled her.

"So basically you're a glorified IRS agent." His dark brows furrow at the unfamiliar term and Jas rephrases. "A tax collector, Gilbert, just say you're a tax collector." She rolls her eyes, staring ahead of her again and making an effort to relax her hands as they enter a small village, their guards circling the center and a few jumping down to drag people out of their homes.

The houses were little more than huts with thatched roofs, the outside walls all bleached white from constant exposure to sunlight. There's a well in the direct center of the village and people in rags shuffle out with their heads bowed. Unlike in Nottingham, these peasants didn't reach out their hands or beg, they just stayed together in nervous groups. The way the guards roughly shoved the peasants about made little difference to Jas, they were only human after all, and humans were just a stepping stone above demons.

"Welcome to Locksley, Took." When Jas doesn't say anything, he returns his attention to the humans. "Ten sacks of flour have gone missing from the store," he calls out in a rumbling voice. "Rest assured that we will find them and the thieves in due time and deal with them all." He holds up a hand and wiggles his fingers with a cruel smirk, leading Jas to realize that they would be using medieval techniques.

"Chopping off hands? How very horrifying." Her sarcasm is ignored and her casual smile stays in place as a soldier comes out of a home carrying two sacks of flour the size of a small child. "Only eight sacks to go. Such progress you're making with your intimidation efforts." Gisborne sends her an annoyed look and Jas sticks her tongue out at him in response, giggling when he rolls his eyes. The owner of the house where the flour was discovered is brought to the front, the thin fabric of his shirt clutched in a guard's hand.

"Who helped the runt?" No one speaks, a few people boldly meeting Gisborne's gaze with only a little fear. They would be the ones to cause trouble and Jas wondered if a simple comment could set them off on a rampage. A Ranger's duty was to strengthen their master and the only way to do that is by making humans like these ones sin, so why not start early? "Step forward and I may show mercy."

After another moment of complete silence Jas leans towards him in her saddle to mock whisper. "I don't think the scare tactics are working."

"Thank you, Took." She grins, patting Tug's neck gently when the mare shuffles impatiently. "One boy couldn't steal ten sacks of flour by himself, but have no fear that we will find and punish the others to the full extent of the law."

"Whose law," a man calls out as he makes his way to the front," certainly not the King's." He is tall and fit with shaggy, dark blonde hair, and the type of features you'd expect to find on the cover of a teen hunk-style magazine; all swaggering arrogance and smooth-talking. "You must be Guy of Gisborne."

" _Sir_ Guy of Gisborne," a guard hastily corrects, giving the man a snotty look. "You'd bow before him if you were smart." The bow that was delivered was entirely mocking and the man held Gisborne's stare through it all as he straightens again.

"Sir Guy of Gisborne. My name is Robin, Earl of Huntingdon and Lord of this manor; your services here are no longer required." Another man steps up and puts a fur mantle around Robin's shoulders, the peasants all bowing as shocked whispers begin to spread.

"Plot twist," Jas says in a sing-song tone, giggling again when Gisborne sends her another look. She knew that look well after seeing it on Flynn's face several times while growing up, it's the one big brothers have mastered and means for the recipient to either shut up or find a way to remove a size ten and a half boot from their ass. "Right, your ego's been bruised, you need time to heal."

Robin and the peasant that had given him the fur make their way past Jas and the others and begin walking to a manor house half a mile or so from the village, talking all the way like friends rather than a master and servant.

"So back to Nottingham?"

"No," Gisborne says with a shake of his head, glowering in the direction Robin was heading," no, I think I shall pay my respects to the new Lord of Locksley." They set off again, following the dirt path to the manor

"Does it sting to know that you're not a Lord of anything anymore? I bet it stings. I'd bet that you want to punch Robin right in his face."

"Do shut up, Took."


	4. He's a Tramp

Jas was still laughing halfway back to Nottingham, Gisborne's bilious expression the same one he'd had back in Locksley Manor. It was too priceless and she found herself laughing all over again whenever she looked his way, her dark cheeks colored with red from the exertion. "I take it you never mastered the art of keeping quiet after all," he grumbles without looking at her.

"I can't help it," she states, her laughter slowly dissipating and one hand held against her stomach as she attempted to get her breath back. "Oh, I haven't laughed that hard in five years, not since…." She trailed off, her smile vanishing as she remembers bright hazel eyes and a tinkling laugh. If Gisborne took any notice in the sudden shift to silence, then he didn't comment on it.

They were quiet for the rest of the trip, Gisborne still fuming and Jas lost in bittersweet memories, memories that focused solely on Garen and the pain she still felt everyday like a living thing. She takes a deep breath to steady herself as they reach the bridge, entirely composed by the time they pass beneath the portcullis, and back to her usual self when they dismount and a soldier grabs her bags.

"Escort Took to the finest guest's chambers while I inform the Sheriff of what happened in Locksley," Gisborne commands, leaving his stallion to be taken care of by a stable boy. Jas is more hesitant to let Tug out of her sight this time around and Gisborne seems to notice that, the observant little shit. "If anything happens to the Ranger's horse, then she'll be the one to punish all of you."

"I'm excellent at drawing out deaths," she warns before handing the reigns over. She grabs her makeup bag, following the guard into the castle and up some stairs; Gisborne walks along with them until they reach the second floor, he went off to the right while she was led to the left. The room she was brought to was luxurious to the extreme, furnished with a settee set across from a large fireplace, two armchairs, and a Persian rug covering the stone floor, the blue-green and golden threads entwined to make a turtle. The wall on the far left was made up of bookcases, most were bare, but the few books present were all leather-bound with the titles stamped on their sides in gold.

"Where do you want the bags, Milady," the guard asks, his chainmail clinking lightly as he comes to stand next to her.

"The bedroom." He inclines his head in response and makes his way towards a door on the right of the fireplace while Jas went straight to the windows across the room and swings them open to allow fresh air inside. There's no pollution here to foul the air and she took several deep breaths until she heard the soldier's footsteps again.

"If that will be all, Milady."

"Get out, Soldier." She stayed at the window for a while longer, watching the people far below her in the courtyard, most of them in clunky armor and carrying spears. "What a dull place." Heaving a sigh, she moves into her bedroom and sets her makeup bag down on the vanity table. Her bedroom was almost as large as the sitting room and the large bed took up most of the space, a four-poster with sheer gold curtains.

She moves over to the bed and dumps the contents of her black duffle bag out on the pale blue linens, sorting through the arrangement of clothes. She grins when she finds what she was looking for, dark sequins covering the bosom of the little black dress.

"Time for a little fun."

* * *

 

Gisborne looked around the empty room in confusion, his lip curling at the scandalous clothes strewn all over the bed and the strange items covering the vanity table. "Here barely ten minutes and she's already made a mess of her chambers," he mumbles under his breath, running a hand over his jaw. He was meant to keep an eye on the Ranger to ensure she does as Prince John wishes, but she's already managed to sneak out without him knowing.

He tosses a scrap of clothing back on the bed and storms out of Took's rooms, slamming the door shut behind him and grabbing the nearest servant, pinning the other man against the wall with a snarl.

"Where is she," he growls," where's the Ranger run off to?"

"T-the tavern," he stutters, eyes gone wide with fear. Scowling, Gisborne shoves the servant away and walks quickly down the hall, grumbling under his breath about the stupidity of women the entire way out of the castle. What business did she have in a tavern anyway? No decent woman of any standing would be found in a tavern, especially the one in Nottingham where scoundrels gathered to get drunk and commit debauchery.

People practically dove out of his way as he passed, one look at his black expression telling them that he was in a foul mood. And who could blame him? First he was saddled with an annoying woman whose reason to live seemed to be Gisborne's reaction when she messed up his name, then he had his lands taken from him by rabble parading as nobility. He had his doubts about Robin of Locksley and he found himself hoping that the man would slip up enough to join the others at the gallows.

Once in Nottingham Town her found the tavern the servant had meant, the air thick with smoke that only made it harder to see anything in the dim lighting. Luckily for him, he didn't need to see much in order to locate the missing Ranger. Her thick accent stood out against the hubbub and her words made him think of molasses due to the slowness of her speech, the deliberate way she pronounced every word like it was a struggle.

" _He's a tramp_ ," she was singing, near the back of the room if he was to judge," _they adore him, and I only hope he'll stay that way. He's a tramp, he's a scoundrel, he's a rounder, he's a cad; he's a tramp, but I love him. Yes, even I have got it pretty bad. You can never tell when he'll show up, he'll give you plenty of trouble_." He wasn't about to admit it aloud to anyone, but her singing voice was nice, dropping an octave or so to a sensual purr.

With the dress she had on, it was little wonder why a small group of men had gathered around her, the Ranger perched on the table and the men occupying the benches. The dress barely covered anything, stopping mid-thigh with thin straps and a bodice that seemed to emphasize her cleavage—not much where that was concerned, but enough to draw the eye.

"Took," he calls over her singing, focusing the full force of his glower on her and growing angrier when she only grins his way. "You were never told you could leave the castle."

"Never told I had to stay there either." Her words came out in an easy drawl, brown eyes meeting blue in a battle of wills. "Why don't you stay for a while and unwind? Drinks are on me this evening." As tempting as it was to take her up on that and drink until he couldn't feel his toes, he did have a job to do and that mainly consisted of getting her back inside.

"Get up and come with me, the Sheriff needs you." She scoffs at that, standing up on the closest bench and then stepping down with a hand on a man's shoulder to help steady her. Gisborne had no trouble in realizing why she needed help, noting that the heels of her shoes looked lethal as she sauntered his way.

This close to her, he could smell a honey-sweet scent that clung to her despite the smoke and ale. Some kind of powder turned her eyelids the shade of coal, her full lips painted a bright red, and her hair hangs around her face in a mass of curls. She bumps his shoulder asw she passes him, leading the way out of the tavern with a sway of her hips.

 _"I guess he's just a no-account pup, but I wish that he were double_ …."


	5. Alluring and Deadly

Jas missed the warmth of the tavern as she moved outside, the smell of tobacco wafting from inside as she walked through the door, Gisborne following after her. He still looked angry and she wondered if that was the norm with him, always brooding away like a medieval version of Sweeney Todd, Columbian Neckties included. He was still dressed in his black leather garments from before and stubble covered his cheeks; too handsome to be so frustrated with life.

“Do you ever smile,” she asks as he takes the lead, easily keeping up with him despite the height difference. “It won’t kill you, you know.”

“Just be quiet, Took.”

“When will you learn, Gilbert? In order to silence me during the daylight hours, you’ll have to drug me. That’s happened before, not a fun experience; it was chloroform and it always leaves a coppery taste in my mouth.” She makes a face at the memory, shuddering at the taste. “It’s like when you put a penny in your mouth and leave it there for a while because your brother says not to.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to give it a try.” She grins over at him as they walk, bumping him with her shoulder. “Stop that.” Despite the stilettos pinching her toes, Jasmine made it all the way back to her chambers without uttering one complaint about the pain, wincing as she perches on the settee and removes them. “How on earth did you not topple over just going down the stairs?” Gisborne looked genuinely curious, staring at the shoes beside her on the cushion.

“Female Rangers are forced to wear heels while training when we reach sixteen,” she shrugs, massaging the balls of her feet. “It’s in case we’re ever in a black tie situation and have to fight to survive or complete a mission. Can’t be threatening when you’re falling all over the place.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.” It took her nearly a year to be able to sprint in heels, but now she could fight in them well enough to pass her courses with a moderately good grade. Her father had been proud simply because she was his only daughter and he couldn’t imagine squeezing on a pair of ridiculously high heels. “We’re having a feast in the Great Hall in a few hours, Vaisey expects you to be there.” Jas heaves a sigh of dramatic proportions, resting the back of her hand on her forehead in such a manner that even Juliet would be proud.

“If I must, but he’ll pay for it.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I’m wearing this to the feast.” Gisborne looked at her sharply, blue eyes narrowing at her as his thin lips were tugged downward in a frown.

“No, you’re not.”

“Want me to wear something more appropriate?” He gives a nod, watching her suspiciously as she sits up and rests her forearms on her bared knees. He couldn’t help it when his gaze rested briefly on her exposed cleavage before snapping back to her laughing brown eyes—he’s only human, after all. “Do you really want me to change?” Another nod as she gets to her feet, crossing the space between them until she had her hands resting on his shoulders and was looking up at him with an alluring half-smile. “Will you be doing the honors, then? Will you tear this dress off of me with your own hands?”

She had one of his hands in hers, her grip light as she moves it to the zipper on the side of her dress, just beneath her breast. He lets out a slow breath, weighing his options and whether they’d have time for what she was suggesting. Her other hand moves to the nape of his neck, lowering his head down until their lips were separated by barely an inch of air. She wasn’t going to force him, in truth this had started out teasing, but now she was able to breathe in the masculine scent of leather and sandalwood.

“I thought the two of you hated each other,” came an amused voice from the doorway, Jas and Gisborne jumping apart and spinning to face the intruder. A stranger was standing there in a pompous uniform, his skin a shade or two darker than Jas’s and his plump lips were twisted into a smug smile.

“Piss off, De Fourtnoy,” Gisborne snarls at the other man, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Unlike her companion, Jas was completely relaxed and she sauntered over to the new man, pressing herself against him and rising up on her toes to whisper in his ear.

“Breathe a word of this to anyone and I’ll use you to demonstrate the tortures I learned during my teenage years,” she threatens, driving her point home when her knee connects with his groin and makes him double over with a grunt of pain. “There, it’s been taken care of.” With a breathy laugh, Jas grabs the heels and moves to her bedroom. Gisborne is left in the sitting room, smirking down at the fallen Master at Arms.

Maybe he and Took could get along after all.


	6. A Man Named Much and an Interrupted Hanging

Jas has attended several big parties since she turned eleven, most of them for birthdays or graduations—things Rangers took seriously—but none of them had been for safe returns from battle. Sure, it was great when a relative or friend returned alive, but there was no point in hosting a shindig since it was expected of them to return or die; no if's, and's, or but's about it, life went on as normal.

The people of Nottingham, however, shared a different view. She knew humans were sentimental and acted on emotion half the time, but celebrating a noble just for surviving a war he volunteered for? That shit just didn't happen with her people. The man of the hour stood on the wooden balcony overlooking the Great Hall, looking less than pleased about something with his servant at his side.

Jas found herself wondering if he was as great a fighter as the nobles proclaimed or if they were just bragging about one of their own that had skill enough to shoot his own deer. Everyone she's talked to thus far has claimed him to be the best shot in Locksley and a good man besides, but no man has ever left a war with their goodness fully intact. She's seen several Rangers leave for vicious battles and come back as naught but wraiths.

She turns her gaze from Robin and to the mead in her cup, tapping its side and watching the ripples with vague interest. The hall is large, true enough, but there are still too many people crowded around her, too much noise that made her ears ache. She itched to just start throwing punches, to push people away so she could regain an ounce of control, so she could _breathe_.

Swallowing hard, she pushes her way through the crowd and takes the stairs two at a time, barreling past Robin and out the door. She was sprinting by the time she made it outside, not stopping until she was several yards from the castle. The cool night air raised goosebumps along her arms and bare legs, but she paid it little mind and straightened up, one hand on her side and her eyes closed as her head tilted back. The feeling of being suffocated was slowly disappearing and her hyperactive senses began to dull.

This far away from the castle, she couldn't hear the roaring laughter or the sneering jibes about her kind. They thought themselves smart as they prodded at her with their words, but they didn't realize how easy it would be for her to kill them all, how their deaths would not weigh on her conscious. She was trained to kill since she was four and death is something she was taught meant nothing; it claimed everyone at some point, so why let it mess with your head?

"The feast not to your liking?" Jas tenses again, spinning on her heel to look at the person that spoke and finding the servant. He was tall and broad, though a bit soft around the stomach, and had a headful of strawberry blonde hair hidden beneath a green cap. He looked like he'd seen better days, his clothing ragged and faded in places, the moonlight seeming to drain the color out of everything.

"Too many people," she says after a moment, deciding the human wasn't a threat. "You're his servant, aren't you? The man from Locksley, I mean." He nods and moves a few steps closer until he is at her side, two feet of space between them as he stares up at the sky. She follows his gaze, staring up at the full moon and the stars scattered about like glitter on blue material. "What about you?"

"The noise was too much." She remembered reading somewhere that people that had been in combat zones weren't overly fond of loud noises, that it reminded them of the situations they'd been involved in and could trigger them. She had an uncle that used to wear heavy-duty earmuffs on the Fourth of July in order to muffle the sounds of fireworks, the loud cracking sound reminding him of being shot at. "I, uh, I brought this." She looks to him again, finding him undoing a knotted cloth to reveal a few pieces of meat and some fruit. "Thought I'd find a quiet place out here to eat it, but I'd be happy to share with you."

"Why?"

"Because…." He trailed off for a moment, looking down at her in confusion. "Because it's the nice thing to do." _Sharing is caring_. It was a phrase her mother often used when Jas and Dash were arguing over whose turn it was to play with the colorful marbles their father had brought back from India.

"Are you sure you want to share food with a Ranger? We're horrible monsters, or haven't you heard?"

"Don't look so horrible to me." He cracks a smile, white teeth standing out against the tan of his skin. "I'm Much, by the way."

"Jas." She reaches out and plucks a grape from the cloth, polishing it on the soft material of her dress before putting it in her mouth. It was one of the sweet kind that she liked the best and she savored the taste of it.

"Much," a new man called out from the castle entrance," it's time to go!"

"Be right there, Master," Much calls back before holding the cloth out to Jas. "Here, I can eat in Locksley, but I'm sure you could use this if you plan to stay out here until the feast is over." Jas takes it from him slowly, unsure what he would ask for in return. Everything came with a price and she wasn't sure what the price of food and kindness was. "It was nice meeting you."

"You, too," she murmurs, watching his back as he runs towards the castle to join up with Robin. "What a strange man."

* * *

 

The worst part of having curly hair and no way to straighten it is the amount of hair ties you have to go through in order to get it in a halfway decent ponytail. It was completely ridiculous and Jas was ready to curse her heritage as she stood out in the courtyard near Gisborne, the weight of her curls making her head ache. There were four nooses hanging from the gallows this morning, stools beneath them for the prisoners to stand on as they're led up the stairs.

"Let it be heard and known throughout the lands and realms of Richard, His Majesty, King of England," Robin states loudly, reading off the roll of parchment that Vaisey had handed him," that on this, the twenty-sixth day of April, in the year of our Lord, 1192, the following men, having been tried under the law and found guilty..." Jas rolled her eyes at the details, growing bored of it all and tuning out Robin's voice. She wasn't fond of hangings, preferring a quick death any day just to keep everything running smoothly, but these people needed the pomp and circumstance.

A priest steps in at one point, claiming to have administered last rites to the condemned and that they had chosen the life of monks, but Jas doubts anyone believed him after the phrase _novice novices_ was used to describe their status.

"Novice novices," Vaisey repeats with an amused smile," how novel. Well, here's what we'll do, hang them and arrest the priest." Once the priest was captured, Jas tuned back out and began to wonder what Flynn was eating in Egypt. Did they serve macaroni there? She knew her older brother practically lived on that and Red Bull when he was at the academy, but she wasn't sure what he'd do if he had to eat weird food. He'll freak out if he's served anything other than pasta or vegetables, but she doubts he'd do it anywhere he could be overheard. 

She's brought out of her thoughts when Gisborne lightly grasps her arm, tugging until she got the hint to follow him and Vaisey up the stone stairs that lead to the front doors of the castle. Her fingers brushed the door handle when all hell broke loose below, guards tumbling to the ground as Robin fought his way to a bow, nocking an arrow and aiming at the gallows.

"People of Nottingham," he calls out, loosing the arrow and watching as it severed one of the ropes," these men have committed no crime worthy of a hanging!" Another arrow is fired and another prisoner is cut free, dropping to the wooden floor of the gallows with a grunt. "Will you tolerate this injustice?" He readies two arrows now as the guards rush at him, firing them and hitting his marks as the final two prisoners are free, the peasants pulling them into the crowd and helping to hide them. "I, for one, will not."

Jas watches on in amusement as Robin takes on the guards with a stolen sword, taking care only to incapacitate them rather than kill them. She doubted his bleeding heart would allow him to take a life after the war in the so-called Holy Lands. Be that as it may, he was still highly skilled and seemed to take the guards down with ease despite them coming at him simultaneously.

"Master, help!" She moves to the edge of the covered porch of sorts to find the person that screeched, spotting a familiar man being tilted over the battlements. It was Much, the guy that was nice to her last night; he'd given her food when he didn't have to and was polite to her instead of cursing her very existence. The soldiers had a tight grip on his tunic, letting his upper half hang out over the stone courtyard.

"Goddamn it," she hisses, pushing past everyone and beginning to scale the wall, suddenly thankful for spending most of her days climbing things when she was younger. If there was one thing Oklahoma had plenty of, it was trees for little monkeys like herself to climb on in order to escape rude older brothers like Flynn. She reached the top fairly quickly, grabbing the back of Much's tunic in one hand to ensure his safety before kicking out at the guard behind her. She felt nothing but adrenaline as he fell to his death below, the other one falling unconscious when he moved to attack her and she punched him in the face. "Don't say I never helped you."

"Why did you help me," he questions, breathing hard as she helps him up. "You're one of the Sheriff's people."

"I owed you for last night, but we're even now." She wrinkles her nose in distaste as she stares down at the hand that had touched the servant, wiping it on the cotton material of her skirt. "You humans are so disgusting."

"Master look out!" He was looking below them now, Jas finding the source of his concern after a second: An archer with an arrow aimed at Robin's back. The nobleman turns to face his killer, his taunt muscles obvious even from so far away. Jas could feel her cuff pulsing against her wrist, her master feeding off the chaos that was unfolding; the pulsing only increasing when something silver flashes in the air and pierces the soldier's arm. He drops hard to the ground, unmoving and allowing Robin a temporary reprieve.

"Lucky duck," she murmurs as Much races down the stairs, he and Robin disappearing out on the bridge that leads away from the castle, leaving chaos in their wake.

"Ranger," Vaisey was screaming from below, his face bright red as he stomps the ground like a toddler. "You mark my words; I'll have you punished for this! Get her down here! Somebody get the damn Ranger and hang her!" She rolls her eyes, showing him the finger she's proudest of.

"Stuff it, Vaisey."


	7. I-Spy a Missing Tongue

Jas’s stomach was turning as she met the others in Locksley Village, a pair of designer Aviators covering brown eyes as she attempted to recover from a killer hangover; a night spend drinking was punished by a day dealing with the oppressive heat because Gisborne is an asshole of the highest caliber. With a pitiful groan, she uses her magic to create a folding chair, collapsing into it gratefully; she didn’t have much luck with magic beyond her telekinesis, but sometimes it worked in her favor. She lets out a surprised yelp when the bottom gives out and she falls through, her legs and arms in the air.

 _Or not_.

While Vaisey laughed his ass off, Gisborne had the decency to dismount and help Jas up, though she could see the smirk that lifted one corner of his mouth. With a muttered curse in German, she detangles herself from the chair and tugs on the hem of her bright pink tank top before facing the men again as the peasants gather with a little help from the guards. At her glare, Vaisey clears his throat and addresses the others.

“I didn’t know you spoke German,” Gisborne says quietly, leaning closer so that she could hear him.

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know, sugar,” she replies with a cheeky smile. He rolls his eyes at the answer, scowling down at her. “I spent ten years there, so it was either learn the language or be hopelessly confused; you can’t imagine how happy I was to get back to my little house and away from my twin.”

“There’s two of you? The absolute horror your parents must have faced.”

“Joke all you want, but I’m the good one out of the two of us.” He snorts at that, eyes focused ahead of them on the peasants as Vaisey continues talking. “What about you, any siblings you’d rather the world didn’t know about?” He stiffens and she can tell from that simple thing that he didn’t like discussing family. “Sore subject, huh? Don’t worry, I know how you feel where unwanted siblings are concerned.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

“My twin, Dash, he put three wads of gum in my hair while I was sleeping and I had to walk around with a pixie cut for three months.” His eyes meet hers, one of his brows cocked up and that smirk playing on his lips again.

“I was seven when my younger sister threw horse dung at the back of my head; stunk for six days.” Jas bites back a laugh at that, staring up at him. “Hold on a moment.” He faces the peasants again to shout,” Loosen your tongues or lose your tongues!” After a few exchanged nods, a soldier comes to the front of the assembled group with a pair of crude sheers, holding them up for everyone to see before making a random man stand up.

“Cut out his tongue,” Vaisey instructs casually from his spot on Gisborne’s left,” and continue cutting one out every hour that we’re forced to stay in this ghastly place.” Jas makes a face as the peasant’s tongue is taken, moving her own over her full bottom lip to assure herself that she still has it. “You, go and fetch me a chair from the castle.” Three of the guards get back on their horses and take off back towards the castle.

“This may last a while, so it’s your turn.”

“Ever played I-Spy,” Jas asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s easy, you find something around here, say the color, and the other person has to guess until they get it right or give up.” He shrugs, gesturing for her to go first. Jas’s eyes roam around the landscape, not finding much color and beginning to wonder if this would work after all. “Okay…. I spy something red.”

“The material of that peasant’s dress?”

“Nope.”

“His hat?”

“Uh-uh.”

**~•ONE HOUR LATER•~**

“I give up, what red thing haven’t I picked out yet?” Jas gives him a smug grin, his frustration giving her a new reason to enjoy life.

“That lady’s heat rash.” His brows furrow and she points it out to him, the rash covering the woman’s neck and part of her chin, an angry red and bumpy. “See? That’s as red as it gets in my book.” She takes a sip of her spiced wine, watching Gisborne’s brows furrow as he inspects the rash.

“Looks more purple than red.”

“No, that’s definitely red.”

“Squint your eyes a bit.” Jas does as he says, squinting and then tilting her head to the side while observing the miserable woman. “You see it now?” She shakes her head and opens her mouth to respond, but Vaisey cuts her off.

“For the love of God,” he growls,” can’t you two just go back to hating each other and end this ridiculous game? The woman’s rash is clearly red, Gisborne!” Jas’s smile brightens and Gisborne rolls his eyes again.

The church bells begin to chime the hour and Jas’s smile dims slightly. “Tell us where Robin is and we’ll leave you be.” Gisborne’s voice is soft, almost gentle, but still no one opens their mouths to tattle. Really, what’s the point of loyalty to a man that would rather play outlaws in the woods than take care of his people? “Talk!” Even Jas flinched back at the sudden shout, glaring at him as she seated herself on the arm of Vaisey’s chair.

“Yell a little louder,” she grumbles, her sunglasses now on top of her head as she scowls up at the two men,” I don’t think the outlaws in Sherwood heard you, Gilbert.”

“If you think you can do better….” He gestures towards the people with raised brows, looking at her over his shoulder. With a grunt of effort, she slides to her feet and moves to stand in front of the men, her hands on her hips as she looks down at the villagers.

“I’ll keep this short and to the point—you can either tell us about your former master or you can listen to those two ramble on for the rest of the afternoon. Let me tell you, I’ve dealt with them before and they’re duller than most of your little human brains; they make watching paint dry look like quality entertainment.”

“Excuse me—”

“Not now, dear, mommy’s working.”

“Let me try it,” Vaisey says, nudging Jasmine out of the way as he launches into a speech, leaving Jas and Gisborne to share twin looks of annoyance.

“How can you stand all that black and leather in this heat?” Her words were quiet and her brows knitted together as she looks up at Gisborne, taking in the fact that he looked absolutely wretched in the layers of clothing and black overcoat, spots of red coloring his cheeks.

“S’ not so bad,” Gisborne shrugs,” keeps me from getting sunburned.” It made sense she supposed, but she was burning up and she only had on a tank top and a pair of jean shorts that barely cleared her thighs. “What about you? How can you be comfortable baring so much skin?”

“Allows for easy movement when fighting and it makes me feel pretty.” He had no response to that, just nodding along with his eyes trained on the peasants. “He always talk this much?”

“Like you can talk.” It was her turn to just nod this time and she settles back down on the arm of the chair to watch everything. Vaisey’s still talking, pacing back and forth in front of the group and moving his hands as he did so, reminding Jas of a Cobra that dazes its pray before devouring it whole. Vaisey wasn’t quick enough to be a snake, though; more like a disgruntled Coyote that was getting on in the years.

“Still nothing,” Vaisey asks once his speech was finished,” not even a plea to spare your tongues?” He heaves a sigh when no one offers up information, returning to his seat. “Alright, take that woman’s tongue. No, not her, the one with the rash.” Vaisey squints as the woman is forced to stand, a soldier holding her in place while the one with the sheers got a good grip on her jaw. “You know, now that I take a good look at it, that rash does look a bit purple.”  

“Told you so, Took.”

 


	8. Captured Outlaws

Jas had just got comfortable again when an arrow whizzed through the air, knocking the sheers out of the guard's hand while a second arrow broke the sheers in half. The first shot was impressive, sure enough, but now he's just showing off. "He's here," Vaisey states as everyone looks for the shooter," find him." They didn't have to look for long, Robin Hood striding out from behind a house with his bow resting on his shoulders, too smug for Jas's liking.

"Good scheme, Sheriff," he calls out without fear," very effective, impressive logic. Can I claim the reward if I tell you where I am? I reckon that would feed the people here all winter." _It's like a duller version of the old Wookiee prisoner gag_. Jas rolls her eyes and stands up reluctantly, her hangover still very much present as she slides her glasses back down over her eyes.

"Oh yes, very amusing, aren't you? Why don't you take a look around, Robin? You're surrounded, see, and you'd be smart to lower your weapon." With his infuriating expression of superiority, Guy begins to speak, claiming Robin's old title as his own and basically just making Jas wonder how her master would react if she cut the deal short and went back to her house where sleeping till noon was acceptable. With a practiced ease that drew Jas's focus, Robin pulls the string of his bow back, letting it go to slap Guy in the face and cut him off.

"Are you sure we can't keep him around," she asks, gaining everyone's attention," I mean, if for nothing else, then he can slap Tall, Dark, and Dumb whenever he gets annoying." Gisborne and Vaisey both send her nonplussed looks and she raises her hands in surrender, allowing Gisborne to hoist her up on his horse. "Okay, fine, but you're missing out on a golden opportunity."

"Shut it, Took." As Gisborne climbs up behind her, Robin's hands are bound with a long bit of rope, which is handed off to Gisborne once he was settled with the reigns in one hand the rope in the other. It felt strange having a man so close to her again, her back nearly pressed against his chest as he urged the horse into a cantor towards Nottingham Town, his arms around her waist both to keep her where she is and to steer the horse in the right direction.

"Comfortable back there?" He doesn't say anything, but she can practically feel the smirk he aimed down at her, his every exhale making the hairs on her head shift. "Funny, I always thought you looked a bit like a horse's ass, but now you're really playing the part."

"Took," he says in a warning tone," do not push your luck today." Jas just grins and leans back against him to get comfortable, passing the short ride in relative ease with her eyes closed. She'd spent most of the previous night drinking until she couldn't feel her toes and she's completely exhausted, so it was no surprise to her when she drifted off.

She was only brought back to the real world when the warmth at her back disappeared suddenly and she was left to fall right off the damn horse. Jas gasps in pain, the back of her head throbbing from where it had connected with the hard stone of the courtyard. She sits up slowly and glares at Gisborne's back even as her flesh knits back together, the injury minor and not warranting much attention.

"I'm gonna kill him with my own two hands."

* * *

"So," Jas starts as she and Gisborne walk through the halls of Nottingham Castle," what happened to the hanging that was scheduled a few days ago? Don't tell me that Vaisey's gone soft and let Robin get away."

"You haven't heard," Gisborne asks with raised brows.

"Nobody tells me nothin'."

"Hood put an arrow at Vaisey's back and managed to escape with his band of outlaws. They ran back to Sherwood Forest with their tails between their legs." Jas grins broadly at the news, glad that someone had embarrassed the Sheriff even if it was another human that did it. "Where were you when it happened?"

"Otherwise engaged, what about you?"

"In bed."

"Ah, but whose bed remains the question." Jas waggles her eyebrows suggestively, laughing as a blush colors her companion's cheeks. It never failed to amaze her how easily Gisborne blushed given his line of work, but she liked to take advantage. "Are you shy now, Gilbert? Come on, it's only sex."

"And you know so much about that, do you?"

"I reckon I know more about it than you do." His blush darkens and he grumbles something under his breath as he enters the council room, the pair taking up their usual spots while others file inside—Gisborne on Vaisey's left and Jas on the edge of the table Vaisey sat at, her legs kicking back and forth as the meeting started.

She tuned everyone out easily enough, her thoughts drifting to better things, namely what she could be doing if she were home. When she wasn't working around the cottage, she normally just watched Netflix and ate junk food until she hated herself, so maybe this was a good thing. Then again, there's no YouTube here, so how was she supposed to pass the boring time in between the good stuff by watching cat videos? The answer was simple and unsatisfactory: She was just plain screwed.

How could she pass the boring days here without even a shred of internet to keep her from losing what few marbles she had left? She'd tried riding Tug around the countryside, but the horse is as lazy as she is and they barely made it more than a mile; four days ago she'd tried Tic-Tac-Toe, but Gisborne is a sore loser, and that meant Checkers was out.

How anyone in 1192 managed to stay sober was quite beyond her.


	9. A Baby Named Seth

Jas was walking through the lower level of the castle when she heard a frantic crying coming from behind the door closest to her, making her stop and backtrack a few feet until she was standing in front of it. The crying was too high to be an adult and she could hear a desperate whining on top of it all, so it was no surprise when her curiosity went into high gear. Without even bothering to knock, Jas opened the door and stepped into the little room beyond, easily spotting the sources of noise.

The young servant's head jerked upward, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy and her cheeks a little swollen as she rocked the bundle in her arms back and forth. Jas went tense when she noted that the bundle was, in fact, a little baby, but she managed to relax enough to take a few steps towards them.

"You should hum," Jas advises quietly, gesturing at the baby with her chin," babies like humming and it helps to calm you down."

"I tried," the servant girl whimpers, her eyes dropping back to her baby. "He's been like this for the past week, but the physician says there's nothin' wrong with him."

"Take it from me, men don't know shit about babies most of the time; even the trained ones are usually too dumb for words."

"Do you think you could…?" The servant trails off, sending Jas a pleading look. "Please, I just need a bit of rest, My Lady." The thought of holding a baby again made Jas tense all over again, her chest aching almost to the point of her doubling over in pain. She started to shake her head, but the servant had already moved forward to place the boy in her arms. "Maybe you could take him to see his father? I'm sure Sir Guy would like to know the baby's healthy."

The thought of Gisborne having offspring almost made Jas laugh outright, especially when one considered that he'd have to remove the stick from his ass long enough to get a woman knocked up.

"I'm sure Gisborne would love to be surprised. Tell you what, I'll keep the baby at Locksley for the night and you get some sleep; don't worry about any chores you have around here." The servant girl thanked her profusely, but this wasn't done out of the goodness of her heart, this was just a way to have Gisborne blushing again. That's what she told her self anyway, it certainly wasn't because she missed having a baby to coo at.

Jas gathered the needed items for the baby before leaving the servant quarters, walking quickly to the nearest exit and then to the stables where Tug was already prepared for her leaving. The horse sniffed at the bundle in Jas's arms before giving a huff and allowing her to climb into the saddle.

"I know," she murmurs quietly, holding the baby closer to her," he's not our boy, but it'll be nice to see Gisborne genuinely surprised." They left the stables at a slow trot, not wanting to jolt the baby in her arms. He couldn't be older than a month or two, blue eyes taking in everything as she kept his ear pressed over her heart so he could hear the beating. She knew it would soothe him and soon he wasn't even crying any more. "We'll be to my new home soon, sweetie, don't you worry about that."

* * *

Gisborne sighed as he walked into the manor, glad to be somewhere warm yet frustrated because Hood had managed to evade him. Thornton met him in the sitting room, a plate of food and goblet of wine on the low table near a chair; the old man seemed to think of everything before Gisborne even thought to ask, but there was something missing. He takes the plate and goblet in hand, blue eyes falling to the chair near the fire that Took usually occupied.

"She's upstairs, my lord," Thornton says before Gisborne could ask. "She decided to take her meal in her room this evening." Though she'd only been here a few weeks, they'd fallen into a sort of routine in the evenings; even in Nottingham they would eat together and have a somewhat tenuous truce for the meal where he would explain customs and she would explain to him the allure of watching a cat play something called a piano.

"Is she sick," he asks after a moment, looking to the old man again. He'd never heard of a Ranger getting sick before, but he supposed there was a first for everything.

"She didn't appear to be, but she did smuggle a small package in from the stables. She wouldn't let me or the other servants handle it for her as she dismounted and seemed quite agitated at the thought of letting it go." Now Gisborne was curious, wondering if she had stolen something Vaisey would deem precious.

"I'll deal with her." Thornton gives a bow before straightening and walking towards the servant quarters, leaving Gisborne to start up the stairs to the bedrooms. As he came closer to Took's room, he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks. It was singing and not her normal songs meant to embarrass, this was soft and slow. A lullaby, perhaps? Did she steal an animal?

" _Stay awake, don't rest your head_ ," she was singing, looking away from the bundle of cloth in her arms just long enough to see it was Gisborne entering her room," _Don't lie down upon your bed._ " Gisborne seats himself in the chair across from the one Took occupied, curious blue eyes taking in the soft expression on her face. " _While the moon drifts in the skies stay awake, don't close your eyes. Though the world is fast asleep, though your pillow's soft and deep, you're not sleepy as you seem…_."

She smiles down at the thing in her arms, rocking her chair gently back and forth without saying anything more. Moonlight was coming in through the window, making Took's brown skin paler than usual; add the moonlight with the way she was completely relaxed and he was taken aback. Surely this couldn't be the same woman that spoke so boldly about things no proper lady should?

"What is in your arms," he asks after a moment, voice barely more than a whisper.

"A baby named Seth." She looks up at him, her eyes showing a deep sadness and longing that Gisborne had never seen before. "He's your son; I told the mother that I would keep him for the night so she could rest." Gisborne swallowed hard, eyes now focused on the bundle cradled against her chest. He'd known Annie was pregnant, but this was the first he'd seen of the child.

_ A Baby boy, Seth _ .

"Take it back to its mother." Her eyebrows raise at that, a hard light entering her eyes the longer she stared at him.

" _It_ is a _baby_ , Gisborne, not an object that you can do with as you please."

"It's a bastard child that I will not claim." Calmly, Jas rose from the chair and moved across the room to settle the infant down on her bed, making sure it was secure and wouldn't roll off before facing him again. Gisborne had never seen her so angry before, had never felt reason to fear her, until this instant. Obviously she felt protective of the child, but he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why.

He stands as well, standing toe-to-toe with her and meeting her furious expression with an unconcerned sneer. He took in her rigid stance, the way her fists clenched and unclenched rhythmically, and how her pupils dilated enough to nearly swallow the irises; it was scary, but Gisborne wouldn't have it be said that he willingly backed down to a woman's anger.

"Say his name," she demands, voice soft so as not to wake the child, but hard. _Like iron wrapped with silk_.

"I don't—" She grabs him by the collar of his jerkin and gives him a rough shake, making his head snap back and forth unexpectedly and his teeth bite into his tongue. He hisses sharply and pushes her away with one hand while the other raises to his mouth, coming back with the leather of two fingers covered in his own blood. Without thinking, he jerks the hand back and slaps her soundly, glowering down at her when she hits the ground.

"You should be happy you even have a child, Gisborne." She stares up at him, the anger drained away as despondency takes its place. "Some of us aren't so lucky to…" She stopped abruptly, like she'd said something she hadn't meant to. For a moment Gisborne wanted to help her up and take her into his arms, hug her as his mother used to hug him, but he forced himself to stay rooted in place and stared instead at the platter of food that was now on the floor.

Strawberries rolled under the chair he had occupied, potatoes were splattered over the wood, and his wine was slowly disappearing in the spaces between the planks. At the sound of shifting cloth, his eyes dart back to the Ranger as she stands, rubbing the side of her face with a wince. _I split her lip_. There was a thin line of blood leading from the broken skin and down her chin, staining the red lace of her dress.

"I apologize," he says after another beat," I should not have hit you." Her jaw clenches, like she was fighting back an instinct to shout, a quick glance at the child on her bed sucking the anger back out again.

"Just get out."


	10. Flower Crowns and Trust

Seth was taken back to the castle early the next morning by an anxious servant, leaving Jas with no excuse as to why she shouldn’t go outlaw hunting with Gisborne. She grumbled a string of curses as she dressed, still half-asleep and wishing she could just walk around in a giant tee and granny panties instead of real clothes. Knowing it would be a long day, she pulls on a pair of shorts and a tee with  _I speak fluent sarcasm_  printed on it, a set of four rings, a pair of sneakers, and her sunglasses.

Her hair was the worst of it all, the mass of curls not wanting to untangle as she forced a brush through them, eventually just falling back on her magic to tame it enough to tumble down her back in curls that weren’t so tight. Satisfied for the moment and still cursing in German, she makes her way down to the kitchen where Gisborne is waiting for her, perfectly composed with a large bag gripped loosely in one hand.

It’s her bag as a matter of fact, a beige tote with  _to the beach_  written on the front above a thick black arrow. Why Gisborne had it was beyond her since she had shoved it at a passing servant this morning with strict instructions.

“About time,” Gisborne says in greeting, handing off the bag and opening the door for her. “I didn’t think you’d ever be ready.”

“You see this hair,” she asks, pausing in the doorway to point to her curls,” it takes magic and colorful swearwords to get it this nice, so you shush it.” He rolls his eyes and nudges her the rest of the way out the door, leading the way to the horses grazing next to the gate. Tug was neighing quietly until she noticed Jas, then she pawed at the ground and threw her head back.

“Temperamental, isn’t she?”

“Nah, she’s just not used to being around assholes for so long.” To show she was joking, Jas winks as she mounts her mare, watching Gisborne do the same.  _Is there anything he can’t do gracefully?_  Frowning a little, she secures the tote to the saddle before taking up the reigns and making her way towards the deep, dark woods that made up Sherwood, Gisborne bringing his horse up next to hers.

“Afraid, Took?”

“Oh please, your attitude is scarier than the forest.” He gives her a small half-smile, letting out a faint huff of laughter. With a smile of her own as they come closer to the line of trees, Jas begins to sing under her breath, a song she’d learned the year before and usually found herself humming when she was cleaning. “ _Into the woods and down the dell, the path is straight, I know it well. Into the woods and who can tell what’s waiting on the journey_?”

“Do you have a song for everything?” She pretends to think on his words, index finger and thumb caressing an imaginary goatee to add to the effect.

“I haven’t found a song for brushing my hair yet, so there’s that.” He was smiling again as other men joined them with baying hounds, though the smile disappeared after he started barking out orders. She didn’t like being around so many humans after spending months in her cottage with only other Rangers that dropped by from time to time to use the Portal; humans were a strange race and she could go entire lifetimes without missing anything about them.

After a last bellowed command from Gisborne, the dogs and their owners are off on the chase, Gisborne and Jas following after them on horseback at a more comfortable pace. Jas wasn’t too interested in catching outlaws, just going along for the entertainment and the chance to pet any dog she could. Rangers and animals got along well despite the fact that Rangers were considered evil, and she often took advantage of that fact by hoarding pets.

“What on earth are you doing,” Gisborne asks after a while, watching her as she pulled long-stemmed flowers from her bag and wound them together intricately. She wasn’t even holding Tug’s reigns, trusting the horse to follow the others.

“You’ll see,” Jas murmurs without looking up from her task. She’d seen a patch of the flowers a few days back and had sent Hannah to pick her several of them; the stems were long enough for her purpose and the white petals were like velvet against her fingertips. Grass-of-Parnassus was their name—Thornton had informed her of that when she’d asked—and they were abundant in the warmer months, so she wouldn’t be lacking any time soon.

“I’ve a proposition for you.” She still doesn’t look up from her work, settling for a noise that meant for him to go on. “I can’t have that baby at the castle because it—” As Jas’s sharp look, Gisborne cleared his throat and rephrased. “Because  _he_  could be a target for my enemies should anyone else find out.”

“Oh yes, because Robin, the man with a conscious that would put Gandhi to shame, would totally kill an innocent baby just to screw up your day, Gilbert.” The look she sent his way suggested that he was the dumbest man on the planet and he rolls his eyes.

“I don’t mean Hood.” She nods a little, showing she understood and for him to keep talking. Of course he meant Vaisey; that man made Fuzzy Lumpkins look like a sweetheart. “He’d be safer at an abbey, but I can’t make the trip without someone realizing the child is mine.” He grabs the back of Jas’s neck and forces her to bend with him to avoid getting hit by a thick tree branch overhead. “You’re the only person I trust to take him away from here.”

“Why would you trust me?” Both of them straightened up again and she turned her face towards him, brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m a Ranger.” Gisborne mirrors her expression, forcing his stallion to stop so they could talk without worrying about being overheard by the others.

“Because you’ve earned my trust.” Being trusted was a strange concept for Jas considering she’d never been trusted before; there could be no trust among other Rangers, they were bred to create chaos and havoc, and so lied to each other too often to gain any source of faith from anyone. “Took, do you think I would have worked with you this long, let you live down the hall from me, if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know, I just figured you’d been resigned to the fact that you were stuck with me.” She shrugs, unused to the whole topic of trust and then she looked completely bewildered. She trusted him, too. Why else would she be able to sleep so deeply, why else would she have moved her pocket knife from under her pillow to her bedside table? She’d grown comfortable around the human. “I…. Thanks, Gilbert.” Instead of growing angry like she’d been expecting, Gisborne snorts with slight amusement.

“You’re welcome, Took.”

They ride in quiet for the rest of the afternoon, following the howling of dogs and burning one of the storage places they’d found full of food and weapons, though not before Jas snagged a ham. Where before things had been comfortable, Gisborne had become tenser and tenser as the day went on. Not catching that wascally wabbit—er, Robin and Company—was making him look more like the Hulk ready for a rampage.

Jas keeps her remarks to a minimum and continues to work on her project, not wanting to accidentally punch Gisborne in the face if he snapped at her. It was pure instinct to punch people that were rude to her, a reaction from her childhood that had gotten her grounded on more than one occasion and Dash twelve broken noses before he reached age ten.

In Jas’s defense, he had it coming each time.

Gisborne was growing red in the face as Jas finished up, and she decided the first of her craft would go to him if only to give him something to smile about. Jas holds out one of her creations to Gisborne, smiling a little when his pale eyes flick from the ring of flowers to her face. He cocked up an eyebrow, his expression practically the definition of questioning.

"What is it," he asks her when she remains quiet.

"It's a flower crown," she answers, tone suggesting he was an idiot for not knowing that.

"Well, what do you want me to do with it?"

"Wear it, Gilbert!"

"I'll do no such thing, Took." Jas purses her lips and her eyes flash dangerously as she practically throws it at him, Gisborne catching it by instinct alone.

"You either wear the crown," she says in the sweetest voice imaginable," or I'll break your nose."

By the time they returned to Locksley Manor, the crown was on his head and Jas looked far too pleased with herself.


	11. Grieving

It was late by the time Gisborne made it back to Locksley Manor, the moon high in the sky and his feet dragging the ground as he throws the reigns to the stable boy. He was bone tired and sore from galloping through the forest all day, irritated by De Fortnoy’s lack of results. Nothing could brighten his mood at this point, not even the corpse of Robin Hood laid at his feet.

He trudges up the stairs, not remembering there being so many of them this morning, and barely made it to the door of his room when he heard a noise. He pauses and listens, head tilted slightly to the side as he waits. When it happens again, he’s not sure what to make of it. Curious now, he takes a few steps in the direction it came from, skipping over the panels that squeaked underfoot.

“No!” The word was sharp and loud in the silence of the house, horrified and wretched. Instincts take over, his irrational need to  _save_  hitting him with a sudden ferocity as he draws his sword and kicks open the door to Took’s room. He takes a quick look around, trying to find whoever had caused the upset, but finds it empty apart from the writhing form in the bed.

He crosses the room to the bed, perching on the edge and studying the Ranger. Her brows were drawn together in frustration and her mouth was open as she screamed again, whimpering afterwards as the tears fall. He’d never seen her like this, so completely upset that she couldn’t control herself, and he didn’t fancy seeing it again. He returns his sword to its scabbard before reaching out a hand to give her shoulder a gentle shake.

Took sits bolt upright, panting as she stares around wildly; she didn’t seem to be able to see anything at first, just continuing to whimper and shake uncontrollably.

“Garen,” she says, almost sobbing as shaking hands grip her blankets tightly,”  _Garen_! Leave him—” Her eyes land on him and for a moment it’s not Gisborne she’s seeing; he’d bet it was that Garen person she was so worried about. “Gar…” The rest of the name seems to stick in her throat and he can see the raw pain carve lines in her face as her eyes go wide.

“Took,” he asks tentatively, raising a hand and brushing a few curls out of her eyes. She stares at him in surprise, like she’d never seen anyone like him, and then collapses against him with her head buried in the crook of his neck. He was too stunned to do anything for a second or two, then he wraps his arms around her and holds her until her shoulders stop heaving.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to him, breath hot on his neck and her voice hoarse from crying. “I shouldn’t have….” She takes a deep breath and tries again and he can feel something inside him aching at her obvious loss. This Garen person was important to her and she loved them with everything she had. “I should know how to control myself better by now.”

“No, don’t apologize for grieving.” He holds her tighter, one arm around her middle while his free hand smoothed down her hair. He’s known loss like this, the loss of family that was never repaired. You can’t leave pain like that in your past, it follows you through life like a chain around your ankle. “Don’t you ever apologize for that, Took.”


	12. Gilbert's Snoring and Child Killers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's outfit was put together by the always amazing thewhoreofcookies, or psychedelicbubblegum on here; thank you so much, hon! Go check her out on Polyvore because she has some really great sets on there! 
> 
> Outfit:: http://www.polyvore.com/catch_me_you_can/set?id=195595301

Jas had expected to be cold when she woke the next morning as she usually was since coming to England, but she found herself to be weirdly warm.  _Was I able to summon a fully functional heating blanket last night?_  She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and just snuggled further under the covers, letting out a contented sigh when her blanket wrapped tighter around her shoulders.

 _Hold up_ ….

She cracks her eyes open, squinting in the half-light of sunrise at the thing she’d thought was her blankey. She was barely awake and marveled at the pale expanse of flesh before her, all taught muscles and forming abs, smooth and soft under her cheek. She follows an invisible path up the graceful curve of the neck and finds her eyes locked on the face above her; thin, pink lips, a straight nose, dark eyelashes that brushed high cheekbones, and dark hair that stood out against the cream-colored pillowcase.

For a moment she was struck by how beautiful Gisborne really was when he wasn’t scowling, his brow not furrowed, and she wondered if she’d ever seen him look so at ease. She liked seeing him like this, no worries to make his lips twist into a frown or Sheriffs making him stress like crazy.

Then the moment was shattered when he let out an ungodly sound, deep and rumbling like thunder without that soothing quality the latter offered. Hell, that was being romantic, he sounded like an angry seal that had missed lunch.  _Damn, this boy can snore!_  Another snore rips through the calm stillness of the room and Jas rises with a grimace, leaving the sleeping Lord in her bed as she moves to the wardrobe, shedding her short nightgown on the way.

Shaking her hair out of her eyes, she pulls the doors open to reveal the jumble of clothing inside, deciding on an indigo crop top that she was fond of, a leather mini skirt to compliment her companion’s usual outfit (how he made it all day in those leather pants without complaining about rashes was completely beyond her), a pair of tan ankle boots that buckled three times with a thick heel, a couple of bracelets, and her favorite pair of gold, dangly earrings.

Satisfied with her outfit, she sits at the vanity and pulls her makeup bag over to her, beginning to apply it to her face in a familiar, peaceful routine that she’d perfected as a teenager; she focused longest on getting her eyeliner perfect, tongue trapped between her teeth as she tried to keep the winged design even on both lids, then on the dark, berry-colored lipstick to draw focus to an otherwise plain mouth.

There was no perfect Cupid’s bow for her to brag about or show off and she wasn’t fond of the whole contouring thing—didn’t have the patience, honestly—and so her lips remained plump yet blunt; they were her mother’s lips, though Jas’s were usually quirked up in some sort of smile.

It’s not until she starts in on her hair that Gisborne’s snoring quiets, preceding a long, drawn-out groan as he sits up, scratching absently at the back of his head as he squints around. He smacks his lips a few times after a yawn, his blue eyes finally landing on where she sat across the room.

“Shall we talk about last night,” he inquires, strangely polite for once. She doesn’t even have to think before she answers, her reply quick and not at all avoiding the subject of the evening before where she cried on his shoulder and then passed out. Nope, not at all.  

“Did you know you snore really loudly?”

“That’s a no, then.” He gets up with a grunt, pulling on his black tunic before crossing the room over to her.

“Like, really loud, dude; you could wake people in China.”

“No need to be embarrassed about crying, Took.” He rests a hand on her shoulder as he bends down to share the mirror, snagging her brush right out of her hand to run it easily through his own mane.

“You're even better than a tornado siren.”

* * *

“We pray for Matthew’s soul as he journeys to a better place,” Gisborne recites solemnly over the corpse of a boy,” watch over us, Matthew, and be proud.” Jas keeps her gaze fixed on the face of the mother, her own heart aching at the woman’s consistent wailing. She knew what that broken feeling was like, the absence of air, and the sensation of drowning; it was the worst feeling in the world and Jas would fight anyone that tried to argue otherwise. “We will bring Robin Hood to justice, you have my word.”

In a rare moment of pure compassion, Gisborne rests a hand on the mother’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. He’s known loss in his thirty years, he’s grieved his childhood and perhaps that sister he didn’t like to talk about often; perhaps he’s lost others as well, but Gisborne liked to speak of his past as much as she did.

After bending down to whisper in the woman’s ear, he rejoins Jas and climbs onto his saddle before leading the way out of the village. Jas doesn’t say anything, following beside him and not paying much attention to her surroundings.

“Are you alright, Took?”

“He killed a child,” she says and gives him a dark look,” I’ll have Robin Hood’s pretty head on a pike for this at the  _least_.” Loathing gave a harsh gleam to her brown eyes, grief under the surface and slowly disappearing as she regained control of her emotions. Anyone that could so easily kill a child was little better than a slug in her opinion and she would see them die by her hand in the end.

“We’ll have him, I promise you.” She turns her gaze back to the unpaved road that leads to Nottingham, knuckles white as she clutches the reigns. They’re quiet the rest of the trip and it’s only when they’re heading into the castle that they get the news of three new kills within the walls surrounding Nottingham Town, two women and a man. Jas’s temper flares and allows her to keep pace with Gisborne’s angry stride, her expression enough to have De Fourtnoy taking half a step back when she and Gisborne storm into the office. “What is going on here?!  _Three_  people have been killed under your nose.”

“Keep your excuses to yourself,” Jas snarls, her telekinesis allowing her to slam the Master-At-Arms against the wall as he opened his mouth, only a squeak leaving at the hard impact. “You had this castle locked down, you have guard swarming  _everywhere_ , and yet you can’t catch a killer that’s lurking around like a fucking medieval John Wick?! You can’t even stop him from slipping between those clumsy fingers of yours?”

He opens his mouth again, but promptly shuts it when Jas wraps her fingers around his thick neck, applying just enough pressure to make his breathing difficult.

“That’s enough,” Vaisey says in a bored tone, but Jas doesn’t let up as she glares at the bastard. “Gisborne, call off the Ranger.” There was a moment of tense silence until she felt Gisborne’s hand between her shoulder blades, tensing and then relaxing and allowing De Fourtnoy to fall to the ground in a heap. “There’s a good dog.” She turns her look on the Sheriff, though not even the hint of fear in his eyes could appease her.

“Go to Tug,” Gisborne tells her quietly, lips soft against her ear.

“But—” He cuts her off with a stern glower of his own, blue meeting brown in a battle of wills.

“That’s an order, Ranger.” She roughly shoulders past Marian as she leaves the room, growling in German under her breath.

“ _Verdammt_ _!_ ” It was her favorite curse word in German even if it wasn’t severe, and by all the stars in the sky, it made her feelings to the world plain. This entire castle could be blown to the heavens for all she cared, but she  _would_  find this killer and show them what a real murderer looked like and she’d not even break a sweat in the process. She would get vengeance for the poor child who’d been killed, she’d get a bit of vengeance of her own, and she would get it soon or Vaisey will learn what a Ranger was capable of when pushed.

She will have everyone trembling in fear by the time this is over.


	13. I Shot the Sheriff, but I Didn't Shoot no Deputy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OUTFITS: http://www.polyvore.com/rangers_lot_robin_hood_bbc/collection?id=5195284 
> 
> BASTET THE KITTY: http://www.catfactsforkids.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/Calico-Cat.jpg

“What the hell do you mean you don’t like cats? I knew there was something wrong with you, but how could you turn your back on this ickle, kitty-kitty, Gilbert?!” Gisborne rolls his eyes and continues towards the stables, Jas following behind him with an armful of calico fur that was vibrating against her chest. “Look at the little thing, she’s all by her lonesome; a lonely loner on a lonely road…. Alone.”

“Fine,” Gisborne snaps, spinning on his heel to face the woman,” but you’ll be the one to look after it, not the servants and not  _me_.” Jas giggles in her excitement, smiling down at the cat that had come right up to her just two minutes ago. “What are you going to call it?”

“Bastet.”

“That was quick. Don’t you want to think that over first?” She shakes her head, climbing up onto the saddle with Gisborne’s help and leaning her back against him when he joins her. She’s had that name picked out for a cat the second she discovered its origins, though she could never have one before since Dash and Flynn were allergic.

“Nah, it’s perfect for her.”

“How do you figure?”

“Bastet is the ancient Egyptian goddess of protection—Ra’s protector in most of the things I’ve read—and she was the goddess of cats, so it fits perfectly.” Gisborne went quiet after that, pouting as Jas continued to run her fingers through the cat’s soft fur. She really is a beautiful girl, the orange and black spots standing out against the dull English countryside as they galloped after the Sheriff’s coach.

“It stinks, Took.”

“Well, so do you after a long day spent outside, but I keep my trap shut.” When she tilts her head back to look up at him, Gisborne’s wearing an expression of offense, his manly pride taking yet another blow, but Jas just smiles a little wider and fixes her eyes back on the purring machine she cradled. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’ll give Bastet a bath when we get back to Locksley.”

Bastet wiggles in Jasmine’s arms until she’s sitting up straight, tail flicking back and forth as green eyes took in the village they were rapidly approaching. Nettlestone is their destination—where the tax guy was killed and the parents of poor Matthew resided—and apparently Hood had an idea to catch the real killer. Jas wasn’t entirely sure how Hood’s plan of parading around the village would help them not die horribly, but who was she to judge?

Once in the village center, Gisborne gets down first and then helps Jasmine, making sure no part of him or his outfit touched the cat she held. Like usual, Jas had dressed in shorts and a pale green spaghetti strap that kept her from growing too hot as she worked, her Converse allowing her to walk without worry of a heel—or her neck—breaking. The deputy steps out of the heavy coach and begins walking around the village, talking to people, shaking hands, the perfect image of a politician.

“This is dumb, huh,” she whispers to Bastet, scratching behind the cat’s ears and grinning when Bastet presses into her hand. “Yeah, we’re cooler than that.” As the deputy did his thing, the guards in their black and yellow uniforms spread out, and Gisborne delivered the speech he’d been practicing since late last night.

“And we stand here today,” Gisborne was saying as he paced,” to show—” Whatever it was he wanted to say next was cut off when a guard fell to the ground with a shout, an arrow protruding from his upper arm. Screams followed, the deputy fell to the ground in fright, and Jasmine’s eyes shot to where the arrow had come from.

“Where are you, craven?”

“Took, stay close!” Lips pressed together tightly, Jas sets Bastet down and moves to Gisborne’s side as she looks for the shooter, absently noting that Bastet had moved to sit on one of her feet. “You two get the Sheriff to safety!”

“He’s not gonna give up easy, Gilbert.”

“You say that as if I don’t already know.”

“Just trying to be helpful.” It wasn’t long before another arrow was fired from nearby, hitting the deputy and forcing him to fall off the horse Jas had just helped him on, followed by a man in black and chainmail tumbling down a steep hill with two partial arrow shafts in his arm.

“I did it, Ruth,” the man smiles, like he’d fulfilled some life’s goal,” I shot the Sheriff.” Jasmine rolls her eyes as Vaisey finally exits the coach, all of them approaching the man who’d murdered innocent people.

“No,” Vaisey corrects in a bored drawl,” you shot the deputy, my lookalike.” Vaisey meets Jasmine’s hard gaze and gives a curt nod, a smirk playing on his lips when she breaks the attacker’s neck with a flick of her wrist, the sharp  _crack_  a sound Jas was used to after twenty-six years of being a weapon. This man had killed two innocent people, but it was Vaisey that commanded the other three deaths, Jasmine was certain of it.

The bad part is that she couldn’t care less.


	14. Backstabbing and Babies

"I thought you'd be happy not to have De Fourtnoy breathing down your neck anymore."

"Well, yeah," Took nods as she and Gisborne walk towards the servants’ quarters in the castle," but next time you shank a guy for his job, at least stab him in the front. I mean, literally stabbing him in the back just takes that metaphor way too far, Gilbert." He snorts and offers his usual half-smile, both of them pausing in front of a door until Gisborne opened it.

Annie was sitting on her narrow bed with the baby beside her, gurgling and shaking his tiny fists in the air. Took smiles when she sees him, immediately going to him and picking him up, murmuring nonsense to him while she bounced him gently. Gisborne was taken aback by the sight, still unused to the gentleness that softened her features when she looked down at Seth.

“Hello, little prince,” she smiles down at him, one of her slim fingers clutched in his tiny hand. “We’re going to take you somewhere safe, yes we are.” Gisborne swallows hard as he watches her, taking in the way her smile was genuine and her brown eyes had a happy gleam that was normally missing; Seth brought out the mother in her and Gisborne didn’t want to look away. She looked her prettiest like this, when her defenses came crumbling down.

“Are you ready, Took,” he asks, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from her. “You should be going so you can get to Kirklees before nightfall.” She looks up with that serenity still present and dips her head in acknowledgment, readjusting her hold on the baby so she could grab the small pack Annie had prepared the night before; Seth’s clothing, a few soft things for him to chew on, mother’s milk, and his favorite blanket. So many things for such a small child, all the effort put forth in raising one making Gisborne happy that he was easing Seth away from the castle.

“You will protect him, won’t you,” Annie asks, instinctively reaching for her son and then dropping them to grip the skirt of her dress. “You know how to handle a baby that young?”

“Have no fear, Annie,” Took assures with another of her soft smiles,” your boy here will be safer than the Prince.” And Gisborne had no doubt about that in the slightest, if anyone was capable of protecting Seth without missing a beat, then it would be the woman in front of him in all her terrifying glory. Annie doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she places a soft kiss on Seth’s head before moving to Gisborne’s side.

To his credit, he doesn’t stiffen when she wraps her hands around one of his arms, knowing she would take comfort from the contact and that it would keep him from having to listen to her wailing once Took walked out the door. Took knew her job and gave another smile to Annie before walking out of the room, Gisborne making to follow only to have Annie’s hold tighten.

“Can we trust her, Sir Guy,” she whispers, turning her round-eyed gaze up to him. He did stiffen this time, mouth drawn down in his usual frown. “I mean, she’s a Ranger—”

“Aye,” he interrupts a bit more harshly than he’d meant,” she’s a Ranger, but she is also my second-in-command, Annie.” He pauses a moment to take a deep breath and soften his tone before continuing. “She would give her life for the child, for any child, so you should have no doubts about her dedication. Seth is in good hands.” Annie bit her lip and looked to the doorway like she was trying to see Took walking through the castle, but Gisborne distracted her with a chaste kiss against her forehead. “I should go see them off.”

“Do you think the sisters would allow me to visit him from time to time, so he knows his mother?”

“Of course they will.” She nods with her brows knitted together, hugging herself as her gaze remains firmly on the doorway. Gisborne gives a nod of his own and follows after the Ranger, taking the servants’ way to the stables where he found Took working one-handed. “Where’s the stable boys,” he demands, striding to her side to fix the pack to Tug’s saddle. “They should have been helping you.”

“They’re off gathering food for the other horses,” she answers with a sigh, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet to keep the baby from being fussy. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He moves sideways and takes the baby from her so she can climb up into the saddle, letting her get comfortable before he carefully hands Seth up to her. “Are you sure you’re okay with doing this?”

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else with him.” Her features were set with determination and he knew there would be no talking her out of it. “I should be back sometime tomorrow afternoon, so try not to let anything exciting happen till then, okay?”

“I make no promises.” Ever since Hood returned to England it seemed like every day brought new surprises, and not even the happy kind. To be honest, he missed the days when the most exciting thing to happen was a peasant died of heat stroke. “Do me a favor and stay at the Abbey until morning, I don’t want you on the road too late in the evening.” The smile she sent his way this time was mocking and he could already tell jokes were coming.

“Aw, ickle Gilbert’s all concerned for my safety.” She places a hand over her heart with the smile still in place. “I’m touched, really, I never knew you could be so sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just don’t want to have to replace you this far along, woman.” The laugh that followed was one of the rare ones she allowed, one that wasn’t meant to be mocking, but genuine and a little silly. It took her a minute or so to compose herself, the baby gurgling in her arms like he was trying to laugh as well.  _Perfect, my own son is laughing at me now_. It’s a good thing he’s sending the boy off or he might have two annoying people following him around and mocking him in a few years’ time.

“I’ll find an inn or somewhere to stay tonight if you’re so concerned, but I can’t stay in the Abbey.” She holds up her right hand to show him the silver cuff seared into the flesh of her wrist, the band thick and gleaming in the low sunlight. “I’m a servant of the darkness, sweetie pie, can’t spend more than two hours in a church or place of worship or I’ll start looking like a crispy critter.”

“Thank you for that image, Took.”

“Hey, what use would I be if I didn’t allow you that.” She winks, urging Tug out of the stables with Gisborne following behind. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Be careful.” He couldn’t help it or take the words back now, fighting back a wince the second they flew out of his mouth without permission. She’s never been alone for long in this time period and he didn’t want something bad to happen to her. Surprise filled her dark eyes and it made something in him wish to hurt whoever had taught her that no one was concerned with her safety. “Don’t do anything too reckless.”

“Same to you.” And then she was riding away towards the portcullis with his son in her arms and it wasn’t until she was out of his sight that he realized he had a cat in Locksley Manor that hated him more than he hated Hood.

* * *

"I was away for twenty-four hours," Jas says as she and Gisborne settle in their respective seats near the fire,” not even that, and yet you still couldn’t keep things together until I got back.” Gisborne rolls her eyes, but offers up a half-smile all the same, knowing she was only trying to get on his nerves. “Aside from your lady friend attacking you with a knife, how was your day?”

“Eventful, obviously,” he answers smartly and she rolls her eyes. They sit in silence for a while, Jas’s eyes trained on the dancing flames, watching them writhe and crackle in a dance that had always fascinated her. A single spark could create ruin and desolation, but it could also keep people alive for hours longer than they would have without it.

Plus, a small fire made up of Dash’s favorite jersey allowed her to roast marshmallows while he cried like a baby.

Somewhere else in the manor house, she could hear the servants moving around as they got everything ready for bed. They would be turning back her covers by now, making sure there was enough wood in the fireplace, setting a basin of cold water on her bedside table; simple chores that made up the evening routine. It was strange to think she had a schedule here, that she didn’t even have to pause and think about what was meant to be happening.

Gisborne woke early every morning to really get into his grumpy headspace while the servants prepared breakfast, she woke two hours after that and came down in time to grab some food before heading out the door, and they’d spend the rest of the day chasing outlaws or doing the Sheriff’s bidding. When they came home, they would eat and then they would sit in silence in front of the fire until they grew tired enough to drag their asses upstairs.

“Sing for me.” She didn’t hear him at first, too consumed by her thoughts until he cleared his throat loudly and tried again. “Took, will you sing something for me?” She looks his way in confusion, raising a brow as he continued. “I can’t sleep when I’m tense and you…. You have a nice voice.” At another time she might have made a joke, but she was tired and could see the exhaustion in his eyes, so she took a moment to think of a soft lullaby-styled song.

“ _A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep; in dreams you will lose your heartaches, whatever you wish for you keep. Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true._ ”

A snore interrupts and Jas gives a faint smile as she rises, grabbing the throw blanket from the back of her chair and covering Gisborne with it. The poor guy is dead on his feet and deserves all the sleep he can get, so she wasn’t going to be the one that wakes him up.

“Sweet dreams, Guy.”

 


	15. Gilly's got a Crush

Music was playing as Gisborne returned to Locksley Manor, just as loud and strange as the woman singing along to it. He couldn’t recognize the song—never could when it was her music—and it was too loud for his liking. She was in the middle of the sitting room, dancing and singing, Gisborne taking in the sight as he leaned against the doorframe.

“ _Bless your soul_ ,” Took was singing without noticing him yet,”  _you’ve got your head in the clouds. You made a fool out of me and, boy, you’re bringing me down!_ ” She turns and moves to drag him with her to the center, dancing around him without missing a beat. “ _But rumor has it I’m the one you’re leaving her for_.”

He wanted to say that her dancing was appalling and it certainly wasn’t the prim, proper steps that he was used to, but this was passionate and graceful, this was what happened after years of training to become used to her own body,  _this_  was Jas Took at her most comfortable. You can’t wear a mask when you’re so focused, there’s nothing to think about except the next step and the next, and then when you threw in the singing. Well, he was supremely amazed that she was able to concentrate on him without faltering.

It was a purely primal thing with her, this dancing, it was what she did to relax besides humming to herself, this helped her to focus on the day’s tasks. The way she danced around him was completely natural and captivating, she moved like she was embracing a lover without the mess of a bad parting. It was  _her_  and she felt comfortable enough to share this with him because she knew he wouldn’t betray her by now.

“We do have things to do today,” he muses as she continues to circle him in her dance, turning his head to follow her as she comes back round on his right in a spin that brought her up onto the tips of her toes. “Important things.”

“Things can wait,” she returns easily enough without pausing. “This is my jam.” He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he really hoped she hadn’t gotten into the jam he was saving for tomorrow’s toast. Apparently she saw the expression he tried to hide and she broke into a grin. “I was referring to this song being one of my favorites, Gilbert.” He doesn’t even make a face at the name, taking it in stride. “That thing you were talking about, it’s the Sheriff’s fair, right?”

“Amazing, she does pay attention to the meetings.” It was strange to tease someone he wasn’t trying to kill, to be doing something other than hating all the idiots that surround him, but Took brought it out in him sometimes; she drew the part of him that craved human contact to the surface.

“Well, I’m not going.”

“You’ll go to that fair even if I have to drag you there by your nose.”  _In fact, Vaisey ordered I do exactly that if she doesn’t comply_. She meets his gaze without the fear he’d grown used to seeing in peoples’ eyes; she’d never feared him, never shown any sign of wanting to decorate a spike with his head.

_“Oh.”_

“Oh? What? What oh? Why are you oh-ing?” He didn’t like that  _oh_ , it meant she was thinking stuff better left alone.  _Dammit, she’s got that look that means merciless teasing_. “Please don’t—”

“You’ve invited a certain maiden of the fair variety, and you don’t want to be completely alone with her.” She points an accusing finger in his direction, still dancing despite the conversation. He makes to shake his head, but she starts talking again. “ _Gilly and Mary sittin’ in a tree_ ….”

“Enough,” he says firmly, feeling his ears heat up as a blush crept over his cheeks. “I merely asked Marian to accompany me to the fair, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but you  _like-like_  her, you wanna have little babies with great hair.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, scoffing even as a grin threatened to make itself known. “You get a certain gleam in your eyes whenever you look her way that says everything you’re too afraid to.”

“I beg your pardon, but I have no gleam in my eyes.” She gestures to the mirror set above the mantle and he can easily spot the gleam she referred to, but he wouldn’t have it said that Guy of Gisborne was any less stubborn than a Ranger. “There’s no gleam, and anyway, Marian and I won’t be left alone because it would go against propriety.”

“Oh please, you’re crafty enough to find a dark place to….” She pauses and gives him a suggestive look. “Bury your pocketknife.” He wasn’t sure what that was, but by the way she held her thumb and forefinger so close together, he reckoned it wasn’t complimentary. “Look, just sneak over to her house at night and have your merry way—with her consent, of course—and be out before morning. Don’t bite her anywhere obvious.”

“I’ll have you know that I possess a sword,” he utters defensively, pointing at her,” and besides, I don’t…. I would never—” She holds up her hands in surrender, though the smile remains.

“Hey, I don’t judge. I like it rough to an extent, but I’ve never been into the biting thing. What’s that about anyway?”

“How should I know?” He’d always been gentle with his bedmates unless they requested differently, but he did know what the biting was about.  _It was about showing the world the person belongs to only you, that you’ve claimed the person and that anyone who tries to touch them will find themselves missing a hand_.

“ _But rumor has it he's the one I'm leaving you for_.” The song ends and a new one begins, softer on his ears and making Took change her dancing to something even more graceful, fluid movements that captured his attention as she began to sing the new song. “ _Far over the Misty Mountains cold to dungeons deep and caverns old_ ….”

“Isn’t it time for you to go get dressed so we can leave here?”

“I’m as dressed as I’m going to get, sweetie pie.” With a frown, he takes in today’s outfit, noting that he’d never seen her in anything that wouldn’t send a priest into fits. Her shirt is a gray and peach number that she called a tank top with _don’t quit your daydream_  written on it in curling black letters, a pair of white trousers that barely passed mid-thigh and bared smooth, dark legs to curious eyes, a pair of tan sandals, several engraved, golden rings, and a thing she called a cowboy hat.

“The hell you are. You’ll go upstairs and have one of the servants find you something suitable for the occasion.” Defiant to the end, Took turns on her heel and marches through the house to the front doors, throwing them open with a dramatic flair—all without using her hands, he might add—and steps out onto the porch with him following at a more languid pace.

“Uh, Gilbert, we got a problem.” He’s confused about what she meant until he joins her, finding his guards unconscious and their swords missing. Gisborne grinds his teeth together in anger, kicking the guard lying closest to him, letting out a howl of absolute fury.

“How did we not hear this?! What was the point of just taking swords?! Hood!” Blue eyes meet brown and he had expected to see the same annoyed rage burning in Took’s eyes, but he finds blatant amusement there instead, her hands on her hips as she watches his tirade.

“I have a feeling your guards are the human equivalent of Wile E. Coyote.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may not be as good because I had to completely re-write it after Word decided to shut down before I could save, but chapters should be coming a little quicker since I’m now writing this (partly) for my uncle while he’s in Iraq with some other soldiers. The songs in this chapter are 'Rumor Has It' by Adele and 'Misty Mountains' off The Hobbit (couldn't resist it).


	16. Dealer's Choice

"That's it," Jas asks incredulously," you just cut the guy's arm instead of his throat? Damn, boy, we're gonna have to enroll you in some villain classes because you got a lot to learn about where to stick that sword of yours." Gisborne rolls his eyes as they continue down the path, changing the subject in order to include Vaisey and get Jas off his back.

"This mess could've been worse," Gisborne states with his arms crossed over his chest," if not for the slaves, we would've had to close the mine." Jas tunes out the conversation of in-bound slaves, focusing instead on Bastet as the cat keeps pace with them, occasionally chasing after small squirrels or mice she spotted on the sides of the path. In the week or so since she'd found Bastet, Jas's attitude about being in this realm had changed drastically, the cat bringing out the best in her.

Plus, without Bastet, she never would have found out how much Gisborne hated felines of any kind. If it wasn’t a dog or a horse, then he wanted nothing to do with it, so she'd decided to search out a small bunny as well.  _I could name it Radar_ , she decided with a faint smile _, Radar O'Reilly, clerk of Locksley's carrot supply_. Her smile widens at the thought, not noticing the others had stopped walking until she ran face-first into Gisborne's back.

Rubbing her nose with a wince, she looks up at the two men in front of her, Gisborne fighting down his usual half-smile and Vaisey looking at her like she was dumber than a box of rocks. "This is another example about why you should think of women as lepers," Vaisey states, pointing at Jas," they're dumb enough to get distracted while walking and that could be passed on to offspring."

"At least my kids will have hair," she grumbles, picking Bastet up and marching off. She seats herself on the wooden gate surrounding the mine's entrance, bored already and they'd only just arrived. The trader should be there soon, but Jas had learned not to rely on someone's word alone; if she could, then Garen wouldn't have been a month early. "How long will we have to stay here," Jas asks loudly, taking on the tone of a pouting child. "It's hot, my wrist hurts…."

"Says the woman hardly wearing anything."

"Not my fault I have a brain and dressed for the weather." Vaisey repeats her in a falsetto, picking up a handful of pebbles to throw at the nearby…. Well, to be honest, Jas wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to be; a bit of wood that formed a box with some roped tied around it to keep it all together.  _Medieval trashcan? Yeah, I’ll just go with that_. She didn’t care what Vaisey did, she just wanted to be at that stupid fair where at least she could get some free ale.

At the Sheriff’s order, the guards start going through their drills with the Sergeant yelling out orders, offering up a touch of entertainment.

“You could try to get along with him,” Gisborne murmurs as he comes to stand next to her, arms over his chest as he leans his back against the wooden support on her right. Bastet hisses when she spots him, but doesn’t leave the protection of Jas’s arms, almost like she was offering up protection. “Or at least ignore his comments.”

“Or I could be a sarcastic ass to him and make you fight back amusement.” She gives him a sarcastic smile and he returns it with one of him own. “You should consider taking off the overcoat sometime today.”

“And, pray tell, why is that?”

“Because I’m not about to explain to Marian that her suiter died of heat stroke because he wanted to look cool in all the leather. Don’t be dumb, Gilbert.”

“You just want me to take off my clothes.” It was still weird hearing his teasing, but she liked it all the same; it showed he was human and not some robot masquerading as a terminally irritated man. Wanting to see him turn a rosy pink color again, she leans down so that her lips brush his ear, taking on a seductive tone.

“Whatever gets you under me.” His cheeks flush a shade darker and his left eye gives a slight twitch, like even the thought of sex was something he forced from his mind. She giggles as she straightens again, laughing fully when he glowers up at her. “Don’t worry, I just do it because I like that pretty blush of yours.”

“I don’t blush,” he grumbles, puffing his chest out,” it’s from the heat.”

“Mm-hm, yeah, sure.” She nods along with him, giving him a sympathetic look that bordered on mocking, only serving to make him yank harshly on his jacket to straighten it further and draw attention to his thin yet hard chest. She knew firsthand that his chest was nice with pecs that the gods could have carved, but she also knew men did this when they needed their dignity tended to. “Relax, Gilbert, you’re the manliest man I know.”

“Don’t placate me, woman.”

“Don’t be so touchy, jackass.” He opened his mouth with a retort, but is cut off by the sound of horse’s hooves and a creaking wagon, both of them looking to the path and spotting the slaver coming their way at a steady pace. “Took him long enough.” Gisborne moves to help Jas down only to have Bastet try to claw his hand, jerking it back so fast that it might have been spring-loaded. “Easy, Bassy, it’s Vaisey you’re supposed to hate.” She scratches the cat behind the ears as a treat anyway, the offended expression on Gisborne’s face enough to give her new life.

She stays where she’s at while the others move to the slaver, unloading people from the back of the covered wagon. They were all a dark brown color with dark hair and unfamiliar clothing, Saracens if she had to take a guess, and none looked pleased to be there. It didn’t matter to her so long as she didn’t have to work overtime to keep them in line. Jas gives a nod as Gisborne gestures at the waiting horses, jumping down and landing lightly on her feet before joining them.

“Why couldn’t you bring Tug,” Gisborne asks, carefully avoiding Bastet’s teeth as he helps her up onto his stallion and climbs on behind her.

“She’s jealous of our newest member,” Jas shrugs, giving a firm tap to Bastet’s furry head as Gisborne takes hold of the reigns, forced to keep his hands in front of the cat. “She always is for the first couple of weeks. You should’ve seen the way she nipped at the poor family of ducks that waddle around my yard, hated the little guys until they snuggled with her in the barn.”

“Then we should lock that  _thing_  in there for a few days.” Jas snorts, leaning back against him and growing drowsy from the heat and the familiar movement of the cantor. “Are you getting enough sleep, Took?”

“Plenty, it’s just this damn heat.”

“Oh,” Vaisey states in a sardonic tone,” but you  _dressed_  for the heat.” She shows him the finger she’s proudest of, cutting her eyes in his direction.

“I’d hate to lose one of my favorite sandals up that tight ass of yours, Vaisey.” He sneers at her, taking her threat as a lie instead of a feat she’d happily perform if given the chance. All were quiet the rest of the way back to Nottingham, dismounting in the bustling courtyard a few feet from the long stage set up in the middle, a large white and red target set up at the farthest end from the raised platform where the chairs had been set up for the nobility. “An archery competition, how wonderful.”

Stalls were set up on either side of the courtyard, one selling bow and arrows for the competition, one taking wagers on who would be the overall winner—Robin Hood was currently in the lead—and the rest selling food or drink. Jas lets Bastet squirm out of her arms and run off, knowing the cat could take care of itself while Jas occupied herself with a pint of honeyed ale and one of the little almond cakes. She was just digging around in her purse for the right amount when a glove-clad hand slaps the coins into merchant’s outstretched palm.

“Think of that as a thank you for accompanying me,” Gisborne says when she raises a brow at him. “I know you didn’t want to come in the first place.”

“How’d you guess?” He rolls his eyes as they move through the crowd towards Marian and Edward. “Don’t worry about it, I know you’re awkward around her, so think of me as moral support. I could always be your wingman if you need it, you know, I could talk you up and make you sound like an enjoyable human being.”

“I think she’ll be able to figure that out on her own, thank you.”

“Not if you continually glare at everyone and everything.” They join their group on the stage, Vaisey and Gisborne having a quiet conversation until they finally make it to the other two. Vaisey and Jas don’t bother with formalities, continuing on up the stairs and to their respective seats while Gisborne hangs back, Jas seating herself on the edge of the platform with her legs dangling in thin air, swinging them back forth. “Did Gisborne tell you about his encounter this morning?”

“Which one,” Vaisey asks,” the one with the outlaw or the one where he found out how useless his guards were?”

“The first one, but I guess it’s a good thing he told you about the second as well. Does it mean we can recruit guards that actually know what they’re doing now?” Jas nibbles at her little cake, using a handkerchief to keep her hands from getting sticky.

“Let me know when you find one of those.” Jas will give him that one, competent lackeys were a rare commodity in any age. As Gisborne and the others join them, Vaisey rises to address the masses, grunting as he heaves himself out of the wooden chair.

“Exercise a little more and you wouldn’t have any trouble getting out of your chair.” He completely ignores her for the most part, settling with a light kick to her side as he began to speak.

“Thanks to the rogue element amongst you, I have been forced to introduce new security measures. The guilty object to security because they have something to hide, so I expect your full cooperation.” It had gone nearly silent when Vaisey began his little speech and Jas was convinced she would be able to hear a pen if she dropped it. “No man shall wear a sleeve on his left arm.” A guard drags a peasant onto the stage, holding a sword at his throat as another guard rips the sleeve off his tunic. “Enjoy the fair.” The men below quickly begin to roll up their left sleeve, not wanting to be killed because they weren’t quick enough for Vaisey’s liking.

“Five bucks says Hood’s gonna cause trouble and make us leave.”

“How much is that,” Gisborne asks, raising a brow as their gazes meet. “Five pounds, right?” Jas nods, craning her head back so she could see him without turning. “You have a deal, Took.” A young man steps onto the stage with a pitifully carved bow when his name is called, his best attempt landing the arrow in the outermost white circle. Not ten minutes after the deal was made, the fat slaver from earlier clambers up on the stage, narrowly avoiding an arrow to the face.

“What’s this all about?” He runs the length of the stage and collapses to his knees in front of the platform, a coughing fit turning his cheeks red.

“The mine,” he manages to cough out, gesturing back the way he’d came,” R-r-robin Hood, fire!”

“Ha! Pay up, Gilbert!” Jas does turn to face him this time with a triumphant expression, wiggling her fingers impatiently until the coins filled her hand while Vaisey stood and screamed for soldiers. “He’s awfully slow sometimes.”

“You’re just stating the obvious,” Gisborne says as he stands, tying his purse back to his belt before jumping down onto the stage. “Stay here and keep an eye on things, I’ll be back when I can.” With a sigh, Jas turns again to face the people behind her, giving a smile most would call gentle unless they’d seen the real one.

“Lady Marian, would you like to take a walk with me? Now that Gisborne’s gone, I’ve got no one to make fun of and this fair isn’t to my taste.”  _Give me a drunken brawl any day, but not a bunch of humans hoping to out-shoot guards_. Marian mumbles something to her father before rising from her seat, waiting on Jas to get up as well before the pair began to move, Jas's cake left behind. Instead of moving down into the crowd, they go through the doors behind the chairs, deciding to get out of the sunlight.

“I must confess that I did not think you liked me,” Marian says in a soft voice, eyes lowered demurely to the floor.

“Oh, I don’t, but you’re the only woman around here that can make Gisborne flustered.”

“Then why did you—”

“Because I know the image of you Gisborne has in mind; kind, gentle, soft-spoken most of the time.” Jas forces Marian to come to a stop in front of a row of opened windows. “That’s how women are supposed to be right now, but you and I know that’s not quite true.” With the smile still in place, Jas turns Marian’s left arm gently in her hands until she finds the crimson blood soaking through the cream material of Marian’s sleeve.

“It’s from my hand, I cut myself when I was pealing my apple.”

“Or Gisborne did it when you were masquerading as a hero.” Using her thumb, Jas applies a bit of pressure to the wound, holding on even as Marian tried to jerk away with a gasp. “I’ll make you a little deal, sweetheart, you don’t bruise his ego too often and I won’t tell him your dirty little secret. He likes you, Marian, and that’s the only thing that’ll keep you from a one way trip to meet your God.”

But Marian’s wide eyes weren’t on Jas anymore, they were on something over her shoulder. Confused, Jas releases her and turns, spotting a peasant holding a bow that was aimed their way. “It’ll be quick, My Lady,” the boy promises, hands steady and gaze locked on Marian.

“What in the hell?”

“I’m a good shot, I hardly ever miss, so just step to the side.” Rolling her eyes, Jas sends him crashing against the wall with just a wave of her hand, the boy landing in a crumpled heap on the floor, unconscious but breathing.

“Do we have a deal, Marian?” The sound of footsteps was quickly approaching them and Marian hurriedly shakes Jas’s outstretched hand before moving to the boy’s side to make sure he would recover. Robin rounds the corner a few seconds later, taking in the sight of Jas leaning against a wall while Marian coaxed the boy into waking.

“What happened,” he asks, almost dumbfounded.

“A lot, but I’m sure you can watch the rerun next week.” His brows furrowed, but Jas didn’t bother explaining. “Marian and I were having a nice chat when the idiot showed up and threatened her life. Now, I’ll let you tend to both of them in exchange for one week without any heroics. That’s all I want, one week where I can go to sleep without worry of being dragged out of bed at unreasonable hours.”

“Fine. Thank you—” She holds up a hand and shakes her head quickly to cut him off, turning on her heel and walking away.

“I’ll give you a chance to win the silver arrow just to piss Vaisey off, but that’s it until Monday morning, Hood!”

“You’ve got yourself a deal!”


	17. Collapsing Nuns and Family

"We specialize in certain types of magic," Took explains like it was nothing, wiggling her fingers a little for emphasis," like telepathy, telekinesis, life-giving or taking, and even enchantments."

"You could bring someone back from the dead?" Gisborne was curious, wondering if he might have his mother back even if only long enough for him to apologize for what he'd caused. He just needed her to know how much he still loved her.

"Technically, but that's been forbidden."

"Any particular reason?" She makes a face, looking frightened for the first time in months, like the topic was a rabid bear on the warpath.

"We tried once, but that led to a little thing called the Black Plague. Oops." He wanted to ask her more about it, but both were distracted by the sight of a nun collapsing to the ground several feet in front of them on the bridge. Unlike Took, Gisborne gets off his horse as quickly as possible and races to the woman's side, kneeling beside her and cradling her head in his hand.

"Madam?"

"I am the Abbess," she tries tiredly," the Abbess of Rufford. I seek protection of your Sheriff." The childhood fear of God's wrath came to the forefront of his mind, causing him to want to protect this woman no matter Vaisey's thoughts.

"What has happened to you?" The woman's eyes close and she shakes her head, looking close to tears now.

"Pilgrimage…. Outlaws in the forest."

"Take her to the castle," he commands of the soldier closest to him," get the physician and I will return shortly." While the Abbess is picked up by the guard, Gisborne hurries back to his stallion and climbs onto the saddle, kicking the horse's sides to get it into a full gallop, Took following behind him on Tug. "What kind of man could attack a nun?" He looks to Took only to find her sporting a dry smile as she urged her mare to match his pace, her brows raised slightly. "I mean a human man, Took."

"Vaisey," she answered without hesitation," though he does seem the type that would sell his own mother for even the promise of money." She shrugs and he's forced to concede that much, knowing the fact to be true. Vaisey didn’t speak much about his family and Gisborne didn’t pry, though he’d often wondered during the first month or so of service whether or not Vaisey was an orphan. It would certainly explain his callous disregard of families. “What about you?”

“Pardon?”

“What would you sell your mother for?”

“Nothing in the world.” His answer was quick and the look he sent her way told her it was a sensitive topic and to tread lightly if she were to tread at all. Instead of trying to broach the subject like many other people would have, Took allows it to drop entirely, singing under her breath as she was so prone to do. He didn’t mind it so much now that he was used to it, the songs usually too soft for him to pick up the words, but the rhythm of them had become a comforting thing, like a warm blanket on a cold night. Almost unconsciously, he hummed along to the tune, only stopping when he notices the amused gleam in her dark eyes. “What?”

“I’ve just never heard you hum before.”

“Hard not to when you sing that same song every day. What is it, by the way?” He was curious about the tune stuck in his head and the fact that Took began to blush only made him want to know even more. “Come now, surely the fearsome Ranger isn’t embarrassed about a simple melody?” She mumbles the name quickly and under her breath, too low for Gisborne to hear. “You’ll have to repeat that.” Took heaves out a deep breath, her eyes locked on the trail ahead of them.

“El Dorado.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a poem from my realm, but someone also turned it into a song several years down the road.” She fidgets under his gaze, finally looking at him as their horses slow. “It’s a song my dad used to sing to me when I was little and afraid of the lightning; something that means safety.”

“You needn’t be embarrassed about that.”

“Rangers aren’t meant to be afraid of anything, we’re meant to stand tall in the face of danger, to greet it with a smile.” She lets out another breath, curt this time, and shakes her head a little. “Yet here I am, singing a stupid song to help settle nerves I shouldn’t have.”

“Everyone is nervous once in a while, it’s normal.”

“Not for me.” Seeing her flustered like this wasn’t nearly as amusing as he’d hoped it would be, only feeling sympathy bubbling to the surface for her. She was raised to act as a man should and not reserved as a woman, raised to run right into the thick of battle instead of staying safe somewhere far from it, so how could he not feel bad for her at times? Besides, they may have started out hating each other, but he now considered her the closest thing he’s ever had to a friend. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Knighton Hall,” he answers, taking his turn to avoid her gaze. “I promised Marian I would stop by today, but I’ll have to cut the visit short because of Hood.” After a week of peace, suspicious yet needed, Gisborne was already dreading the ride through the woods that awaited him. Was courting a woman as beautiful as Marian really too much to ask for? He was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t somehow offended God and was now paying the price for it.

“Another present for the beauty?” He nods in confirmation, ignoring he rude sound she made afterwards. “Honestly, just tell the girl how you feel and get on with it! You can’t just expect to buy her loyalty with trinkets for the rest of your relationship.”

“I’m not trying to buy her affection.” He lets out an indignant huff, rolling his shoulders back and trying to push her words out of his mind.  _Isn’t that what you’re doing, though?_  He frowns at the thought, wishing he actually had an answer for it. “Why can’t I?”

“Because you don’t need to.” He had the nagging suspicion she was leaving out an important detail, but she didn’t give him the chance to ask about it before she continued speaking. “You’re a mostly decent guy apart from the whole merciless killer thing you’ve got going on, and you’re not bad looking. All you need is a little more charm and you’ll have her in your arms before you can say Abracadabra.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It  _is_  that simple. At least, that’s how I hooked my first and last boyfriend.” He looks her way again as they approach Marian’s home, wondering if he’d understood her right. Did she mean that she used that on her first boyfriend and her last one or did she mean that her first boyfriend had been her last one? “Keep your shoulders straight and your chin raised, like Vaisey does when he addresses the masses, and you’ll be more confident than you believe.”

“What if I’m not.”

“Then I’ll just have to whip you into shape, Gilbert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> El Dorado is a poem by Edgar Allan Poe and sung in the western El Dorado that starred John Wayne. The song is really great and you can find it on YouTube if you follow the link.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdtrGhQ6dwk


	18. Nun Baiting

Jas leans against the wall with an easy smile, using her pocketknife as a way to clean the dirt forming beneath her nails and to make the nun uneasy. Most people hated nuns because they could be downright terrifying in classrooms or they believe they’ve done horrible crimes, but Jas hated nuns because they all seemed to have a holier-than-thou view point with anyone who didn’t share their religion.

Sure Jas worked for their enemy, but did they really have to act like it was a surprise? She was a Ranger for crying out loud, she was literally raised to serve and commit crimes that would have normal people blowing their brains out, so why did it always send nuns into fits when they spot the bracelet on her wrist?

Shit, at least she got great healthcare and dental.

Then again, maybe the nun was looking at her so weird because of what Jas was wearing? Unlike the nun’s modest gown that verged on death-by-sunstroke, Jas had decided on a tie-dyed crop top, a pair of teal shorts, and pale pink Converse with her hair in a messy braid; teal and pink cupcake earrings swinging whenever Jas moved her head, and the silver rings on her hands gleaming dully in the sunlight that flooded the room.

At least Jas wasn’t sweating like a man about to be convicted.

“So,” she starts, not looking away from her task,” save any lives today, Sister?”

“I am the Mother—”

“Mother Confessor, I got that.” She lets out a bored sigh, continuing to work the dirt out from under nails that were in serious need of a manicure. _Maybe I’ll have a chance to paint them tonight. Oh, I could paint Gisborne’s toenails bright pink when he falls asleep!_  “Is it true that you guys can’t have sex?”

“Yes, that would be adultery since I have chosen God as my husband. I assume that you could never be a nun even if you hadn’t sold your soul to Lucifer.” The nun eyes Jas with barely concealed disdain and Jas lets out a snort of laughter.

“Trust me, honey, there’s plenty more reasons why I couldn’t be a nun.” Finished, she closes the knife and clips it to one of her belt loops, brown eyes landing on her charge. The lady wasn’t bad-looking all things considered; plump lips, dark skin, probably a beautiful head of hair hidden under her nun-hat-thing.  _Habit, wasn’t it?_  “And at least the guy I sold my soul to doesn’t make me live by strict guidelines like yours does.” Okay, that was complete bullshit and she had the list on her refrigerator to prove it, but it was always fun to make a nun angry.

“I’ll have you know that I never sold my soul!” Jas keeps quiet when they both hear Vaisey outside the door, voice raised just enough for them to hear him insulting all nuns in general. To be fair, he made an excellent point and it really did make Jas happy to see the wrath burning in the nun’s eyes as she finished washing her hands in the basin. “There are worse things to dress up as than pious,” she informs everyone as Vaisey and Gisborne enter the room.

“That remark wasn’t meant for you,” Vaisey returns, about as convincing as a toddler with cookie crumbs on his face. Jas and Gisborne share a look as he joins her side, looking less than pleased with how things were going. Or maybe he was just bored; Jas always got his bored face and his I-don’t-want-to-be-here face confused.

“You’re not sorry for it either.” She turns to face him, drying her hands before putting the cloth aside. “For that I cannot grant you forgiveness.”

“That was be a devastating sentence where you’re from, but it holds no weight here. Trust me, I don’t forgive those two for half the mistakes they make, but do they care?” Two sets of eyes turn to Gisborne and Jas, the pair of them shrugging in unison. “See? I told you so.”

“No matter your belief, I’ve no intention to be a parasite in your castle, My Lord. I shall be leaving forthwith.”

“Safe journey to you, then.” Vaisey moves away from her as she starts speaking again, Jas tilting her head back against the wall. She’s been on some boring jobs before, and that includes being forced to watch her twin eat his weight in pickles to impress a girl in their neighborhood, but this was the worst.

“I’ve sent one of your messengers to Rufford and assuming the outlaws you obviously can’t control allow him passage, a retinue will arrive to escort me home directly. I’ve ordered that you be paid for your hospitality.”

“You do realize that any monies received will be given to King Richard for his war?”

“Funds raised by the church go towards the glorification of God, not to a war where innocent people are slaughtered.”

“Funny,” Jas interjects, her and Gisborne going to join Vaisey near the door,” because I’ve heard it said that your darling Pope started all of this in the hopes of reclaiming a Holy Land. You know who else views the land as holy? Go on, take a guess.” The nun presses her lips together in a firm line and Jas continues. “Those Saracens you hate so much. They’re fighting to keep ahold of Jerusalem as well and it seems to me that the church should support the King in the mission the church started.” Vaisey points to Jas and gives a nod of agreement.

“I had heard Nottingham had become a Godless place, but now I realize how right the gossip was.” The sneer she sent Jas’s way would have made a lesser woman blush in shame, but Jas simply gives the nun a wink.

“Oh, I know,” Vaisey replies without worry,” one would think an all-powerful god would have struck me down by now. Don’t worry, Mother, your dinner will be free if you’re still here.” The trio move out of the room, Gisborne shutting the door behind them before catching up further down the hall. “I’ll pay five pounds to whichever one of you breaks her nose first.”

“Consider it done,” Jas says with an extra skip in her step.

“I want it done in front of me, though.” She giggles, bumping the old man with her shoulder as she matches his pace. “Make it a clean break, something easily fixed so we don’t have to hear her complain for too long about it.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Go and make sure the gold in the chapel is secure and then make your rounds in town, Took.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” She gives him a mock salute, and turns on her heel to walk towards the stairs.


	19. Whack-A-Nun

The door to Vaisey’s office swings open to permit a man Jas has never seen before, his blonde hair tasseled and his face covered in stubble, dressed like someone important. “As requested,” he announces breathlessly,” Robin Hood and his band are in your vault.” Jas raises her brows in shock, hopping down off the table where she’d been sitting for nearly half an hour.

“Hood,” Gisborne checks disbelievingly. “And how did you manage that without giving away the tax chests?”

“They were moved for this occasion,” Vaisey informs him, not looking nearly as interested as he should. Jas was just happy to know that she could watch Hood and Co. swing from the gallows, no more trouble for a long while if they’re gone and that means that she can finally sleep until noon again. Lucifer below, how she’s missed sleeping in. “Gisborne, Took, this is Flaxton. I think the two of you owe him a kiss for accomplishing what the two of you couldn’t.”

“If I remember correctly,” Jas states, sending the Sheriff a dry look,” you were usually the brain behind those schemes.”  He sticks his tongue out at her, pushing past and leading the way out the door.

“Shall we go and gloat or would you like to stay behind and pout?”

“I would love if you could settle the remainder of my payment before we do that. I would sing your praises,” Flaxton says, stopping Vaisey halfway to the door. “After all, I  _did_  have to risk my life in order to get your outlaws.”

“I haven’t inspected my delivery yet.”

“Unless he can walk through locked doors, then he won’t be going anywhere.”

“You don’t know Hood.” Jas shoulders past him and starts for the vault where the taxes had originally been kept, Gisborne coming out after her while the other two remained behind them, arguing.

“Marian’s decided to become a nun,” he murmurs, only loud enough for Jas to hear. “She’ll be leaving tonight with the Mother Superior.” It took all of Jas’s self-control and the despondency in Gisborne’s eyes to keep from snorting out loud, covering it up with a short cough.

“Ouch,” she says instead,” that has to smart. Have you tried changing her mind? You know, pleading your case or whatever.” He nods with the same expression you’d see on a kicked puppy. “Lock her in a room with me for five minutes and then come to her rescue, she’ll think you're her knight in not-so-shining armor and I can relieve some stress.”

“I’d rather have a wife that’s in one piece, thank you.”

“Gisborne,” Vaisey calls, making them stop and look at him,” you and the Ranger go check on our guest and the other things in the chapel.” They share another look before going off to the right and straight down the hall to the chapel door, waiting until Vaisey passed by before talking again.

“Do you think there’s any point in actually checking on her?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Jas shrugs, but neither one gave the order for the door to be unlocked. Neither one really cared what a nun was doing and both were wondering if they could just sneak back to Locksley and eat an early supper. Jas was hoping for roasted boar again, but she’d take whatever was put in front of her. “We could always half-ass it and listen.”

“Sounds fair to me.” They gesture for the guards to move and then pressed their ears against the wood, both struggling to hear even the faintest sounds. “Do you suppose she’s praying still?”

“I don’t know, are you people really quiet when you do that?”

“I always was, but—” The sound of swords clashing rings out from the courtyard, preceding battle cries that had Jas and Gisborne letting out twin sighs of annoyance. “You think it’s…”

“Who else could it be?” This was getting really old, the adrenaline of fighting no longer coming since it was the same old situations every time. The only way they could spice things up now is if Hood decides to duke things out with his fists instead of actual weapons. “You go on and I’ll stand guard here.” Gisborne nods and runs off, drawing his sword in one smooth motion that had Jas a tad bit jealous.

“Should we,” a guard trails off and gestures after Gisborne.

“Only if you want to try and kill an outlaw.” The two guards were gone before the words had left Jas’s mouth, leaving her to sit on the floor in front of the door. “Well, this job officially sucks.”

She hadn’t been sitting there for ten minutes when she heard a crashing sound followed by a gleeful laugh. She stands quickly, using her telekinesis to force the door open before stepping inside.

The nun was in the process of clearing out the chapel, her hands full of one of the chests that held Vaisey’s money. Everything seemed to pause for a moment, Jas staring dumbly at the nun, who was doing the same in return.

“What in the hell?” That broke the spell, the nun moving swiftly to the broken window and dropping the box out of it, running back and forth until Jas shook the shock away as the nun made for the last chest.

“Catch,” she cries, Jas suddenly occupied with a flying wooden box, barely catching it before it could slam into her stomach. She grunts with the sudden weight, looking up and spotting the nun climbing out the window with the help of tied-together curtains.

“Vaisey’s going to try and murder me for sure.” She sets the remaining chest down on the alter, moving to the window and spotting the back of a familiar blonde head. “Then again, he’s the one that invited two thieves into the castle, so maybe I’ll get off easy.” She follows the direction of the wagon with her gaze, noting the path it would be forced to take through Sherwood with a faint smile. “You fucked up, lady.”

“What in God’s name have you allowed to happen,” Vaisey roars from behind her only to let out an indignant noise when she shoulders past him. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To get your damn money!” Jas moves quickly through the halls of the castle, guards and servants alike jumping out of her way before she could move them herself, and Gisborne running after her if the sound of his footsteps was anything to go off of. “I’m gonna get that five pounds that Vaisey promised if it kills me.”

“Allow me to be your witness,” Gisborne replies, he and Jas sharing a half-smile as they move into the courtyard. Tug had sensed her master’s thoughts, the connection running deep now that things had settled into a sort of routine, the mare waiting for her beside the portcullis.

“Don’t you have something important to tell your lady love?”

“It can wait; she’s not going anywhere.” Gisborne lifts her up onto the saddle and climbs on behind her, his arms around her as she takes the reigns and urges Tug into a fast gallop down the same path the false Taxman and nun had taken. There was only one path for a wagon to take through Sherwood and she would take a narrower path that would bring her out in front of them.

“You really think you can woo Marian? She’s not exactly the swooning maiden most girls around here are.”

“I’ll just have to use my charm.” Jas really does snort at that, laughing even harder when she feels his fingers move against her ribs. “Ah, ticklish, are we? Good to know that when you try to embarrass me again, all I have to do is  _this_ —" he moves his fingers against her ribs again to make her squirm and she let out an embarrassing squeal— “and get my revenge.”

“Do it one more time and I’ll make your nose match the not-a-nun’s.” She had meant for the threat to make him shiver in fear, but Gisborne only laughs at it. “Yeah,” she grumbles under her breath,” keep it up and I’ll laugh my shoe up your ass, Gilbert.”

It wasn’t long before the path broadened again and she brought Tug to the center, turning back towards Nottingham and waiting. “Are you certain they came this way.” He didn’t have to wait long for the answer, the wagon coming into view and the horses rearing up to keep from colliding with them. “Well, alright, this worked for once.” He’s the first one off and Jas follows, giving the passengers a sugary sweet smile.

“Lovely to see you both again, but I believe you have something that belongs to us.”

“Took’s dignity, for one.” She purses her lips and sends him a glare, delivering an almost playful kick to his ankle. “Get down now and we might let you leave here without much of a fuss.”

“Fight us,” Jas states when she notices the way the two had gone tense,” and I show you what Game of Thrones has taught me.” She drops her voice to a whisper as she climbs the side of the wagon, a theatrical one that everyone could hear. “I’ll give you a hint: it involves flaying knives.”

“Don’t think she won’t do it,” Gisborne advises, taking ahold of her hips and lowering her back to the ground without much of a problem,” she’s talked about this method in detail on several occasions and she’ll take enjoyment from it.”

“Like you wouldn’t.” Another half-smile given from him as he grabs the front of the woman’s dress, yanking her down while the man followed suit on his own.

“What do we have here?”

“Why, Gilbert, it does look like these people were only interested in stealing our sewage.” She looks at Flaxton and gestures at the back of the wagon. “Get to digging, sunshine, and I don’t want to see you out of that wagon until all of the chests are accounted for.” Gisborne didn’t give him a chance to protest, grabbing him by the back of his tunic and trousers, and practically tossing him into the reeking sewage. “As for you, Our Lady of Perpetual Morons, I’ve something special for you.” She coldcocks the woman as hard as she can, shaking her hand as the Not-So-Mother-Superior crumples to the ground.

“Beautifully done, Took.”

“Why, thank you, my good man.” She gives a dramatic bow, Gisborne doing the same with his own added flourish. “You know, I thought you would be the biggest pain in my ass when I first met you, but now?”

“Now,” he urges.

“Now I think we can team up and just be one big pain in the ass for Vaisey.”

“A Fine idea.”


	20. Fifties Dresses and Gisborne's Smile

Jas has seen Vaisey angry before, has seen him throw tantrums that would put Garen's to shame, but this was a new level of pissed off—Vaisey throwing things, stamping his feet, and shouting at anyone who moved. Lucky for her and Gisborne, she had them in a strategic position in one of the watch towers where they could see and hear everything without being seen or heard themselves.

As for why Vaisey was so upset, Jas has snuck into his room before he woke and quickly applied some beautiful polish to his fingernails, bright pink with green stripes running through it like a zebra's pelt. It was one of her better jobs, but she found her gaze stuck on the man next to her. Jas watches as Gisborne laughed, his eyes closing and a hand on his stomach, the kind of laugh that shook his whole body and made her want to laugh with him in pure glee. It's only when he was able to stand again and smiled her way that the shock she felt turned to awe.

She's always known Gisborne is a beautiful man with features any young adult hero would sell their soul for, but she's never seen this before. He's smiling at her, a real one that made his entire face light up in his happiness.

The boy had a smile that would make the sun jealous and Jas wanted to look at it for the rest of her life.

"Are you alright, Took," he asks after a moment, brows drawn together when he notices she's no longer smiling. Jas shakes her head quickly and clears her throat, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Fine," she replies with a smile," and if you think he's pissed now, just wait until he looks at his toes." Another shout rings out, followed by a loud string of curses and the sound of wood breaking against the wall. The pair scramble back to the window to look out, spotting Vaisey throwing whatever he got his hands on, and collapse against each other in another round of laughter. While his fingernails had been bad, she painted his toenails bright yellow with unicorn stickers that she'd put on with superglue.

"Remind me to never cheat you out of money."

"Mm, a good thing to remember, Gilly." They relax on the stone floor, supporting each other with their backs pressed together as they regained their breaths. This was really nice, all good times and no Hood to mess it up early; Jas could stay like this forever, just enjoying the feel of someone close by that didn't want her dead. "How long have we known each other, now?" The days seemed to run together here, no holidays for Jas like Independence Day to keep her on track.

"I'd say about three months or so." They were quiet for a while, Jas's eyes closing and a smile making her lips curve upward when she feels Bastet curl up on her lap, the feline purring contentedly. The cat and Gisborne had an intense rivalry going on and it was rare to find them both in the same room, so that Bassy was on her lap right now spoke volumes about how much Jas was missed. That or Bassy and Tug got in another scuffle that included Tug nipping at the Calico's short fur. "I like your dress today, it's nice."

"Thanks." It was pale pink and fifties inspired, the straps of it gathered behind Jas's neck and the skirt flaring out at the waist, a pair of white and black heels with a little bow, and a silver butterfly ring with pink stones. This had always been her favorite outfit, but she hadn't worn it in years because of the memories that came with it. "Have you talked to Marian lately?"

"Her father keeps sending me away."

"Take me with you next time and I'll keep him distracted while you sneak inside." He scoffs leaning his head back against Jas's, black hair curling with dark brown, both getting mussed. Jas wasn't sure how Gisborne's relationship with Marian would work out considering she was in love with Hood, but Jas held out hope that the other woman would get some sense and realize that Gisborne could keep her safe.

"Shall we head inside and get the inevitable over with?"

"Might as well, though I'm drawing a dick on his face if the ranting goes on for more than five minutes." They stand and start down the winding stairs together, Bastet running on ahead of them to avoid Gisborne 'accidentally' stepping on her tail again. "You and that cat are never going to get along, are you?"

"I'm sure we will…. When God returns to earth." She gives a sarcastic laugh at that, swatting playfully at his arm. The trip between the tower and castle steps was a short one, but they barely made it halfway up them when a guard begins to talk.

"These two wanted to see you, Sir Guy," he announces, drawing the pairs' gazes to the peasant couple at the foot of the steps.

"I'm late as it is."  _Damn, how is it possible for him to change from carefree to disgruntled in point five seconds?_  It really was a gift he possessed and she made a mental note to try and stay on his good side because the glare on his face could turn Smaug into a smoldering pile of ash. "What do you want?"

"We seek your blessing and permission to marry, My Lord," the girl states in a soft voice, only raising her eyes in short bursts. Just as quickly as he'd been angry with them, he suddenly donned a smirk that meant either something interesting or very dumb was about to happen. You could never tell with Gisborne; he was finicky that way.

"Really? And how much are you willing to pay for my blessing?" He moves down a couple of stairs with a swagger in his steps that didn't bode well for the peasants. "Come closer, girl." Hesitant, she moves until she's close enough for Gisborne to smell her, looking everywhere except directly at his face. Jas couldn't blame her, when he was in a mood she'd rather look at his chest, too. "How about this?" He takes her necklace in a gloved hand, admiring it without lifting it off of her.

"It is an engagement present from my mother, I couldn't—"

"Would you like to call that man your husband or not? I'll take the necklace and your husband can take you, I think that's fair." She bites her lip, moving her gaze to Jas with the hope that the other woman would come to her aid, but Jas only gives her a wicked smile in return. She didn't care about the peasants or what they thought of her and she certainly didn't care about one of them losing a stupid necklace.

"If it pleases, My Lord." She turns with her head bowed, allowing Gisborne to undo the knot of leather at the base of her neck, the necklace sliding into his hand. "Thank you, My Lord."

"Get out of my sight." Jas keeps quiet until the doors of the castle have been shut behind them, then she gives her companion an amused look. “Go on and get it over with.”

“Aw, Gilbert’s got a new trinket for his girlfriend.”

“What on earth is a girlfriend?”

“It’s… It’s the chick you keep parading around everywhere.” One of these days she’s going to have to get him a dictionary so he can understand her modern slang because having an hour long discussion about why she randomly called him bro the other day was pushing it. “When are you gonna give it to her?”

“Whenever I see her next, I suppose. Unless you’d prefer to have it.”

“Nah, it’s a bit too ostentatious for my liking. Thanks for offering, though.” He shrugs and tucks it away in his pocket as they head up the stairs and down the hall to Vaisey’s audience chamber. The person waiting on the other side of the door wasn’t who Jas wanted to see, her brown eyes taking in the deerskin jacket the new man wore and his ridiculous mustache. “Oh great,  _he’s_  here again.”

“Morning to you, My Lady,” Lucky George greets with a nod of his head. “Always a pleasure to see you around the castle.”

“Wish the same could be said of you.” She takes up her usual place on the edge of the table while Gisborne stands on Vaisey’s right, all three of them in the position to look down on the crook. He works to get more money for Prince John, but he’s a crook all the same and not even a good one; if you’re going to con people out of money, then you should make yourself forgettable, not flamboyant. “Why are you here now?”

“I’m afraid I’ve been robbed by those outlaws in Sherwood.”

“Sucks to be you.” His lips tighten and he turns his gaze to Vaisey, wringing his hat between his hands. George never failed to remind her of one of those tacky cowboys from Bonanza, his fringed jacket utterly unauthentic and stupid.

“I need ‘bout half a dozen guards to get me and the property through the woods safely.”

“Not happening,” Gisborne states firmly at the same time Vaisey says,” they’re yours.”

“And I’ll be needin’ a new carriage.”

“Anything else, your royal ass,” Jas snaps, focusing the full force of her glare on George. He shuffles his feet and lowers his head, waiting to be dismissed.

“Took,” Vaisey growls,” if you’re not going to be helpful, then get out.”

“That’s probably the best idea I’ve heard all day.” She jumps down and starts for the door, stopping beside George just long enough to whisper in his ear. “Keep messing your little plan up and I’ll be the one to deal with you, sweetheart.” Once she’d ascended the steps and shut the door, she leans against the wall, waiting on Gisborne to be dismissed.

“Good day, Took,” George mocks as he exits after her. “I do have to wonder how long you’ll be kept around here considering you can’t even catch an outlaw.” She doesn’t even twitch, George getting thrown and pinned against the opposite wall while she leveled him with a calm look. “Let me go, witch!”

“Or what, Georgie? I suppose you can burn me at the stake, but all that’ll do is ruin my clothes and that’ll make me angry enough to forget about your temporary importance to Vaisey.” She gives him a smile, unpleasant and threatening as she comes closer to him, fingers stopping just an inch away from the pulse point in his neck. “I may not have caught Hood yet, but I’ve got you and I’m sure your screams could keep me entertained for ages.”

“You wouldn’t… The Sheriff—”

“Oh, I  _would_  and I would enjoy it so much. Vaisey isn’t my master, Georgie, my master lives in Hell and he could use your bones to make a new throne. Unless you want that to happen, then you’d better watch your tongue the next time you’re around me.” She doesn’t look away as the door behind her opens, her smile only growing less worrying when Gisborne speaks up.

“Don’t beat him bloody, Took.” She raises her hands and turns to face him, George dropping to the ground.

“Never laid a finger on him."


	21. Garen

Gisborne felt fear course through him at what he saw, an old fear brought back into fruition that seemed to choke him. Took was standing on the very edge of a parapet, her arms outstretched for balance against the gusts of wind and one leg raised. His heart beating fast, he sprints forward and wraps his arms around her waist, forcing her backwards too fast and making them both topple to the stone behind him.

“The fuck, Gilbert,” Jas demands angrily as she rolls away from him and into a crouching position.

“What the  _hell_  was that,” he shoots back as he sits up, glaring at her to mask the familiar horror that came with being unable to prevent death. He’d felt it before when he was a boy and he’d never intended to feel it again. “Are you trying to kill yourself?!”

“What?” The anger in her face was replaced with confusion, but his only grew. “No, I was just—”

“Tempting fate is what you were doing and I’ll slap you bald the next time I catch you doing it!” Her eyes widen a fraction as she studies him, taking in his windblown hair, flushed cheeks, and the pounding of his heart, barely heard by her sensitive ears. She’s looked at him like that a few months previous when he’d nearly fallen down the stairs of Locksley, but never with so much concern as she did now. “Stop looking at me like that, Took.”

“It scared you.”

“No—”

“Don’t lie to me.” He lowers his gaze to his gloved hands, wringing them together until her smaller ones covered them. “You don’t have to lie to me about these things.”  _What good would it do to tell her the truth? All it would accomplish is another thing she could hold over my head at a later time_. “Is this what panic feels like?” He chances a glance up and finds her looking astonished and absolutely puzzled, brows drawn together as she lifts his head with her hands.

They were soft against his cheeks, like the flutter of butterfly wings in that he could scarcely feel them, and her breath was cool against his face. He’s never been this close to her in nearly three weeks, not since he comforted her after she woke from a nightmare. In fact, both had tried to avoid that type of closeness ever since, but this was different. This was someone learning a new thing and not entirely understanding it no matter how hard they tried.

“You’ve never been panicked before?”

“No, never like this. I didn’t— I didn’t have time to panic, only to feel crippling grief and hatred.” She must be talking about that Garen person again and he felt his own curiosity rise once more.

“What happened to make you feel like that?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but he knew she heard it. Her hands dropped to her lap and her head lowered until her curls hid her face from him like a veil. Swallowing nervously, he uses a knuckle under her chin to raise her head, being the one to do the studying this time. There was no hatred in her eyes, no mischief dancing their like fire, only a deep sorrow that seemed to dull the rich brown color.

“M-my….” She trails off, taking a shuddering breath as she tried to get ahold of her emotions. It did little good, tears making her eyes shine even as they fell down her cheeks like raindrops. “My baby,” she whispers after a moment,” my baby was taken from me.” That hit Gisborne harder than he’d expected, having believed Garen to be a former lover instead of a child,  _her_  child. “He was only two, but he wasn’t strong enough to be a Ranger, so an order was sent out among our kind.”

“They stole him from you?”

“They came in through the windows, surprising me, and two held me down when I went to run for my baby.” She sniffles, her entire frame shaking with the struggle to control her sobs. “They forced me to watch as Dash murdered my Garen all because he was afraid of dark things, the nighttime scared him.” That explained why he rarely saw her in anything that wasn’t colorful. “My master said that he wouldn’t have survived the Rites, so he was disposable.”

“I’m so sorry, Took.”

“I killed them…. Those men that held me down, I came to them in broad daylight and I made their torture last for  _weeks_  before I finished with them. But Dash, we’re not able to kill our own family without the master’s permission even if we tried, so I used my magic to keep him pinned down on a dirty floor and I shattered  _every bone in his body_. I made him hurt for what he did, I made him beg for a release, but he was just healed so I could do it all over again.”

A beat of silence where her terrifying gaze was locked on something over his shoulder and Gisborne felt as though the men deserved far worse than what she was able to give them.

“…. He’s still gone,” she continues, voice breaking as she slumped against him,” my baby’s gone and I’ll never see him. I want my baby, Gisborne, I want my Garen.” Tears stung Gisborne’s eyes as he held her tightly, like he was trying to protect her from what had already happened. He couldn’t think of what to do to help her, couldn’t think of a way to ease her pain because he’d never found a way to ease his own.

He just rocks her gently back and forth like he’d done with his sister all those years ago, lips against the crown of her head as he murmured the song he’s heard so often from her, the one that helped her relax in this new world.

“ _Through sunshine and shadow, from darkness till noon, over mountains that reach from the sky to the moon. A man with a dream that will never let go keeps searching to find El Dorado_ ….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> El Dorado is a poem by Edgar Allan Poe and sung in the western El Dorado that starred John Wayne. The song is really great and you can find it on YouTube if you follow the link.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdtrGhQ6dwk


	22. Objects at Rest

"A traitor," Jas asks again for confirmation, continuing at Gisborne's nod," awesome. What do we do to find out who it is? Oh, oh! Could we strap them all down and do that Chinese Water Torture thing I saw on TV?" He gives her an uneasy look, the same one he usually gives her whenever the subject of torture comes up and she gets too excited about it. She couldn't help it, it had been one of her best classes until she'd specialized in telekinesis and she'd spent hours studying the different types that could be used on people.

"Easy, Took, I've done this in a less messy way," he states," I've told only the Sergeant of the guard that an unguarded chest of silver will be going down the North Road." Jas's excitement melts away as she frowns down at her shoes. "What's wrong now?"

"Just boring, is all." She takes a long drink from the cup in her hand, warm coffee making her a little peppier than she had been when Gisborne first charged into her room that morning. It was her favorite coffee cup, the only one she used, and the  _nope, not today_  printed on the front in bold, black letters offered the perfect explanation.

"What's that smell?"

"That depends, do you like it?" Gisborne has a contemplative expression as he thinks the question over and then gives a simple shrug in answer. "It's coffee, Gilbert, it's the only thing keeping me from turning into a Gremlin." His brows furrow at that word and Jas quickly holds up a hand as he opens his mouth. "Read the cup, I'm not explaining what a Gremlin is this early in the morning."

"It's nearly one in the afternoon."

"Details." She waves her hand and walks out of the house towards the stables, Gisborne keeping pace without a problem because of his long legs. She wasn't exactly short, the top of her head brushed his chin, but he was still able to take longer strides and did it often when he wanted to bug her. "Are we going to follow the fake and arrest Hood when he tries to take it?"

"No, we'll be bringing the other cart to Vaisey from the harbor." Jas comes to a stop beside Tug, her hand on her reigns with Gisborne's on top of hers to keep her still. The half-smile was back and Jas found herself smiling too, her mind working out all the paths they could take that wouldn't be intercepted by the first cart.

"And what path do you suppose we should take?"

"Why, the one through Sherwood Forest, of course." He nudges her back out of the stables and towards the forest, not even giving her the chance to say her good morning to Tug. "Come along, Took, we mustn't waste precious time."

"On foot?"

"We can't exactly blend in dragging a chest of silver by horse, can we?"

"True as that is, we won't be blending in with a chest of silver on foot either." But she doesn't argue with him, just taking another sip of her coffee as they maneuver through the woods and to the path that would take them straight to the harbor. Sherwood Forest had the smoothest and easiest paths to navigate in all of Nottinghamshire, which is why the outlaws flocked to it in order to make a buck or two. "How are you and Marian doing?"

"I'm not talking about that right now."

"Sure, of course, you've only been talking about her nonstop since I got here." Jas shrugs, looking at him over the rim of her cup as he turns a glare on her. It wasn't his best glare; it was a slight narrowing of his eyes that signaled he wasn't as angry as he pretended to be. They went quiet for a few more yards, Jas still sneaking looks at him every now and again as she finished the cup. "So—"

"It's impossible for you to drop a subject, isn't it?"

"What can I say, Gilbert? Us Americans are stubborn little shits, it helps us win wars, poker games, and convince our parents that we weren't out partying until two in the morning." He makes a noise of amusement at that, his little half-smile appearing again. "Now, are you going to let me live vicariously through your love life or do I have to find someone else that's practically in heat whenever a specific girl is around?"

"I don't act like I'm in heat around Marian."

"Oh please, you practically dry hump the poor girl's leg." He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from her. Jas just smirks, keeping her gaze on the path ahead of them as it eventually widens, the trees becoming sparse and the sound of waves crashing against the wooden docks gets louder and louder. Ten minutes or so later, Jas found herself helping Gisborne raise a heavy crate of silver from a dinghy, the rope handle digging into the soft flesh of her hand.

"Get it to the thingy," he grunts, guiding her to the cart waiting for them in the sand, half-buried because of the gusting winds. Jas lets out a relieved sigh when they can set it down, the cart creaking under the sudden weight of the chest. "Now for the fun part."

"We need to work on your definition of fun, Gilbert." They each grab one of the two handles protruding from the front, heaving the cart out of the sand and back to the path, working in silence to get it to the castle as quickly as possible. Hood's group weren't the only outlaws in Sherwood, they were just the bigger annoyance and Jas silently wished she could just get by without seeing them today. Was one day too much to ask for?

"Stop right there," a male voice calls out, followed by the rustling of leaves as three men come out on the path in front of them. They weren't with Hood and looked like they hadn't had a good meal in ages, their rags hanging off frames that might have belonged to skeletons. "We'll just take that heavy chest off your hands."

 _One day, just one damn day_.

"Would you like to do the honors," she asks, looking Gisborne's way without an ounce of fear of the men in front of them. He sniffs primly, pulling his sword free and twirling it expertly. The sight of flashing steel and the easy way with which Gisborne handled it had the outlaws' taking unsure steps backwards. "You know who this is, don't you? This is Sir Guy of Gisborne, Master-at-Arms, the Sheriff's right-hand man; he will have all your heads decorating his walls before any of you can blink." That was all that was needed, the trio of outlaws tucking tail and running off, leaving their makeshift weapons behind.

"Nicely done," Gisborne compliments," though I could've taken them."

"Oh, could you? Funny, I thought you were all about  _avoiding_ things today." He gives her a dirty look as they begin pulling again, both of them grunting with the effort to force the cart into movement.

 _Newton's first law of motion can kiss my ass_.


	23. Back in the Game

“So why aren’t I allowed in the super-secret meetings anymore,” Jas asks as Gisborne finally comes out of the audience chamber, pushing away from the wall.

“He doesn’t trust you enough anymore,” he responds, casting a glance her way as he walks past, Jas scurrying to keep up with him. “He says that, since you’re a Ranger, you shouldn’t attend the meetings anymore unless Prince John orders otherwise.”

“Sure, I mean, I’ve only killed for the man and saved his neck, so why should I be trusted?” She sighs, linking her arm through his and skipping as best she can while keeping pace with him. “Anything interesting happen while you were in there? State secrets I shouldn’t know about?”

“Oh yes.” He stops and feigns awe, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Secrets that would make France  _exultant_  if they were to find out.” He pulls back just enough to check that no one was listening in before whispering again. “ _Hood fell for the trap_.” Jas laughs along with Gisborne, playfully pushing him away from her and continuing to walk. “Seriously though, we’re to make the Sergeant have an agonizing end.” 

Jas giggles at that, something her mother said she did too often since they were supposed to be evil, and turns her gaze towards the door they were approaching at a rapid pace. Beyond that door were slick stairs made of stone that wound down into the spacious dungeon, cells set into the walls and a wide space in the middle for all the tortures her messed up brain could conjure. The dungeon was also the dampest room in the entire castle, water from the usual storms and drizzles accumulating on the floor while the heat from the torches caused humidity to build and keep the room stifling.

“You are far too happy for a woman that’s about to torture a man,” Gisborne laughs, opening the door for her and gesturing for her to go first.

“I was at the head of my class in that subject,” Jas informs him as they start down the stairs, the door slamming shut behind them. “And if I can make Rangers scream for their mothers, imagine what I can make a  _human_  do. And not an impressive human at that!” The heat of the dungeon made Jas happy that she’d chosen simple clothes to wear; a pale gray vest belted loosely over a blue spaghetti strap, gray skinny jeans, ankle boots with thick heels, and her frizzy hair up in a messy bun.

“Not all humans are as mediocre, you know.” Jas looks his way, coming to a stop when she notices the way he had crossed his arms over his chest and raised his chin, his eyes focused on something over her head. She’d seen this type of offense before in men she’d beaten, it was the offense that ran deep and hit their manly pride.

 _Big babies_.

“Of course not, Gilbert,” she says in a mock sympathetic tone, patting his shoulder as he pouts,” you’re a special snowflake.” He scowls down at her, but she laughs again and moves to the man suspended from the ceiling by chains secured around his wrists. His feet were still on the floor and he was barely sweating, but she could see the fear burning in his eyes. He really wasn’t remarkable, all pale skin from English weather, his blonde goatee made up for the sparse hair on top of his head, and he had more fat than muscle this far along in the years.

“Will he be sufficient enough for you to get back in the swing of your favorite pastime?”

“Oh, you’ve spoiled me. Tighten the chains, the only part of him allowed to touch this floor will be the very tips of his toes.” The jailer does just that, pulling on a crank to raise the man and then locking it in place once the Sergeant was scrabbling like a mouse in a trap. “You and I are going to have some fun, soldier boy.” She unhooks her pocket knife from her belt loop and flicks it open, resting the sharp blade against the man’s cheek.

“How should we start, Took?”

“Mm, tell one of your men to bring us a cup full of lemon juice.”

“What, why?”

“Because even the toughest men scream when it comes in contact with cuts in certain places.” The smile she gave the Sergeant was nothing short of predatory as Gisborne leaves to procure the juice, Jas’s eyes gleaming with her excitement. “I hope you hold out a long time because I’ve so missed this part of my job.”

* * *

"I've been betrayed." Jas looks away from the Sergeant at Gisborne’s words, wiping the sweat from her brow using the edge of her vest, now loosely draped around her neck like a towel.

“Again,” Vaisey asks, not entirely interested in what Gisborne was saying, focusing more on chewing at his bright yellow-painted fingernails. “You’re certainly making a habit of it.”

“How many times can one man get betrayed before he begins to rethink his life choices,” Jas adds, plunging her knife through the Sergeant’s wrist and leaving him to bleed out. “I mean how does that work?”

“Took, are you supposed to be around when we’re having a meeting?”

“Sorry, I didn’t know Mommy and Daddy were arguing again.” She rolls her eyes, wiping her pocket knife on Vaisey’s expensive, dark robes before walking out, flipping him the bird without turning as he starts shouting obscenities at her. She’d barely shut the door to the dungeon behind her when Gisborne was swinging it open again and storming off down the hall. “Hold up!” She runs after him, only slowing again when they were side by side. “What’s got your thong in a twist?”

“Marian’s the Judas.” Jas tried to look astonished, really she did, but it just fell flat considering she knew the other woman was still maddeningly in love with the outlaw.  _Why_  Marian was in love with him was a mystery considering he wasn’t as good-looking as other humans around here and smelled like the south end of a north bound donkey. “She was in the room when I told the Sergeant and her necklace was given back to that peasant girl from yesterday morning.”

“Ouch, that has to smart.”

“We leave for Knighton Hall as soon as the hanging is revealed to the public, so I suggest you change as quickly as possible.” Jas was going to ask what was wrong with her current outfit until he shoved her into her quarters and she caught sight of herself in the mirror; blood covered her hands and stained her attire, she was sweaty, and her hair was an absolute mess.

“Lucifer, I look horrible.”


	24. Unexpected Proposals

It was nearly two hours later when Jas spotted Marian riding her way, the cool breeze ruffling Jas’s tie-dyed dress and her loose hair. Marian dismounted quickly and approached the door with resolve in her stance, Jas smirking at her. “Have any particular way to be executed in mind,” Jas asks with raised brows,” ‘cause no way in hell are you stayin’ alive after committing treason, sweet cheeks.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m sure Gisborne will fill you in. Just putting it out there, beheading is always a fun way to go out or maybe you’re more of the Alan Turing type and prefer to go out on your own terms?  _Suicide is painless, it brings on many changes, I can take or leave it if I please_.” Marian scoffs and barges inside, Jas whistling the theme as she joins them in the dining room, kicking the door shut behind her. Gisborne and Lord Edward don’t rise from their seats to face the two women, Edward pale and sweaty.

“Sir Guy, we were not expecting you.” Marian tried to play everything off, like she hadn’t rushed here to warn her father or attempt an escape.

“I know,” Gisborne states, barely sparing her a glance,” sorry. Took and I were talking after we finished our work and I made the suggestion to pop by and see how all of you were doing.” He spoke in clipped sentences, not emphasizing or staying on any word for long, his anger a physical thing that even Jas could feel like a vice keeping her in place as his intense gaze locks on the human woman. “And where have you been?”

“At the hanging, of course. Could I get either of you something to drink?”

“And risk having cyanide in my system,” Jas queries as she leans a shoulder against the wall,” no thanks, I’ve found it not to my liking.” Gisborne meets her gaze briefly, a line forming between his brows at the mention of previous poisonings before focusing the full force of his stare on Marian, finally standing.

“I assure you, Ranger, I would never—”

“Do not address her in that tone of voice,” Gisborne interrupts, narrowing his eyes,” she’s earned your respect after saving you from that peasant at the archery competition.” It was Jas’s turn to widen her eyes at Gisborne, swallowing as he points her way without turning his head. “You owe her your gratitude, not your contempt. In fact, she was the one who suggested I give you that necklace as a token of friendship, but it seems it’s not to your taste. I’ll have it back now.”

“What necklace do you mean?” Edward rises and moves quicker than Jas thought possible, opening his mouth to speak only to have Jas raise an arm and use her telekinesis to cut off his air supply.  _This must be how Vader felt_. She wouldn’t lie that it was a neat first, the Force Choke something she’s been working up to all her life.

“Where is the necklace I gave to you? It’s the silver one that I put on you myself.”

“You would condemn me because I have not worn the necklace? You would have me killed for it?”

“Show me the necklace!”

“I do not have to show you anything, Sir Guy, and you can thank yourself for ending our friendship.” To her credit, Marian never backed down, though her voice did waver towards the end like she was afraid of what losing Gisborne’s affections meant. “How could I stay friends with somebody who allows a Ranger to warp their views on simple matters? You would have me hanged for a crime I did not commit.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t care if our friendship is intact. You have consorted with Robin Hood, you have committed treason, and that necklace is the only way to prove your innocence. Either show it to me or I’ll leave the manner of your death up to the Ranger you continuously disrespect.”

“The necklace is in my bedchamber, I will go and fetch it for you.”

“You’re lying,” Jas cuts in, forcing Edward to sit so she can move without keeping him in the air. “You’ll get up there and claim that it’s been stolen, you’ll cry wolf with the hope that Gisborne will believe you.” There was less than a foot of space between the two women, Marian struggling to hold Jas’s stare. “Unlike our mutual knight in shining leather, I have no wish to believe your lies and so I have no qualms about hurting you. Keep lying to us and I will break you until you’re nothing but an empty shell.”

“I haven’t lied—”

“Then you’ll have no problems running upstairs and getting the damn necklace.” The other woman turns and starts for the stairs at a brisk walk, sprinting at Jas’s next words. “You have two minutes to return here with the necklace or I’ll turn your precious father into the first human cannonball.” Once Marian was out of earshot, Jas turns to face the old man that was clutching at his throat and gulping in air. “Count to sixty, Eddie.”

“Don’t play games,” Gisborne scolds even as Edward begins the counting. “What is the point of making him count?”

“Because you’ll head quietly up the stairs the second he hits thirty in order to take her off guard, and I’ll head up when he reaches sixty to take away your man card if she’s guilty and not in handcuffs.” With a huff, Gisborne starts upstairs a few seconds later, shouting following afterwards until it suddenly quieted. “Well, that can’t be good.” She gives Edward a stern look, pointing at him in warning. “Stay.” Jas ignores Edward’s dirty look, taking the stairs two at a time and going straight down the hall where she could hear soft murmuring.

“What about me,” Gisborne was asking as Jas stops in the doorway, the humans close to the window across the room,” will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Marian answers after a moment’s thought,” but only on the day King Richard returns to England.” Jas’s stomach does a flip and she finds herself lightheaded at the news, brown eyes seeking out and finding the silver necklace clutched in one of Gisborne’s hands. Swallowing the surge of anger, she smooths her expression into one of cool nonchalance and claps a few times to get their attention.

“How nauseatingly wonderful,” she states sarcastically,” and here I thought ol’ Gilbert would be one of those guys who hoards Pokémon cards instead of getting laid.”

“Jealous,” he asks with a smile when he faces her, one hand resting possessively on the small of his fiancée’s back. Jas followed the movement before her eyes snap right back to his face. There was joy there, a happiness only Marian could bring out in him that had his blue eyes shining, and Jas wasn’t going to make him live without that. He deserved to be happy after all the shit he’s been through in the past three months alone and she would try and ensure that he keeps it. “Would you like a hug as well?”

“Hey, now, no chick flick moments.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The outfit for this chapter was made by the always amazing thewhoreofcookies over on Polyvore, and she's also made a fantastic one-shot for the Marvel series she and I are working on! You can find it on here titled 'Relationship Origins' and her name on here is psychedelicbubblegum. http://www.polyvore.com/time_jumping/set?id=199146463
> 
> The song Jas sings/whistles is Suicide is Painless, it's the theme song to the TV show MASH and off the movie of the show, sang by Johnny Mandel. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FM42Sp1Pqlo


	25. Shankings and Realizations

Seven in the morning is far too early to be expected to be awake let alone awake and ready to  _mingle_. All the same, Jas thinks she got up with less fuss than usual; well, one of Vaisey's men didn't have to drag her out of her bed by her ankles this time. No, she'd woken after Gisborne threatened to burn her favorite pink headband, and she'd only threatened to castrate him while he slept, so it was a good morning all in all. Now she’s downstairs surrounded by the nobility of Nottingham, dressed in their finest—not to mention  _darkest_ —clothing and talking about anything and everything.

It was just another stupid party and Jas secluded herself in a corner with a book, seated on a wooden stool she’d taken from the kitchen, and munching absently on some strawberries. She wasn’t a big fan of meat, eating just enough to get by, and most of her plate was taken up by the fruit the servants had spread out on the dinner table.

“ _Evil is a point of view_ ,” she reads to herself, barely a whisper,”  _we are immortal. And what we have before us are the rich feasts that conscience cannot appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret_. Hmm, I like that.” Her attention is drawn from the novel by Gisborne beginning his speech, the same one he’d made her listen to seven times last night. At this rate, she could say it alongside him, gestures and all.

“As you know, we’re here to celebrate the King’s birthday.” Jas marks her place and shifts slightly on the stool so she can see the top of Gisborne’s head, bringing another strawberry up to nibble on. “We wish him success in the Holy Land and we pray for his speedy return to these shores.”  _Not all of us_. “Please, raise your goblets in a toast to King Richard.”

“King Richard,” everyone echoes in unison, raising their goblets of honeyed wine while Jas simply raised her strawberry up. She sat a little straighter, catching the amused look Gisborne sends her way.

“I have a particular reason to hope for the King’s return because this beautiful woman has agreed to marry me on that day.” Jas couldn’t see anymore as she slumped back down, but she knew that he would be gesturing at Marian. Jas had been the stand in the night before, almost through  _A Feast for Crows_  as he moved her around his bedroom as he saw fit. The fact that he was marrying a woman that didn’t love him left a sour taste in Jas’s mouth, but she kept her trap shut.

“Get on with it,” she mutters, raising her book again and picking up where she left off. “ _God kills and so shall we; indiscriminately He takes the richest and poorest, and so shall we_ ….”

“Before I toast my future bride, there is something that I would like to present to her.” He stops in front of Jas and it takes her a second to remember the engagement ring she’d hidden with the others on her fingers, quickly sliding it off and handing it over. “May I?” She doesn’t want to watch him slide the ring on Marian’s finger, so she raises her book just enough to block everything out.

The pages were yellowed from the years it had spent on Flynn’s bookshelf, the cover worn along the spine, yet it still held that appealing fragrance all books did that made you want to keep it pressed against your nose. It helped her remember being seven and admiring her older brother’s collection, never allowed to touch, but he’d curl up on the rug by her bed and read to her whenever she was sick.

Flynn had always been there for her, the sweetest person in their entire family, and she always missed him the most when he left. He’d nearly been murdered like her Garen when he was three, but their master had decided he was strong enough for the Rites, barely surviving the process and sick for a month afterwards. Now he’s big and strong, a rebel in that he doesn’t do his best out in the field. Dash was his complete opposite in that way, he did his best and then some to ensure maximum damage; psychopaths had that competitive streak going for them and Dash was a therapist’s dream job in that regard.

“Lord and Ladies,” Gisborne speaks again after a moment of near silence,” I give you the future Lady Gisborne.” There’s a chorus of  _hooray_  that Jas doesn’t take part in, but that’s interrupted by the sound of a goblet clattering to the floor.  _That wasn’t part of the plan_. Jas maneuvers until her knees are under her and she can spot Hood at the top of the stairs.

“Have we missed the speeches,” Hood asks with his usual cocky attitude. The huge guy of their group, Little John, kicks the front door open and walks inside with the rest of the group swarming in behind him.  _You know, if Everywhere You Look starts playing, then we could be in a weird episode of Full House_.

“Funny, I don’t remember inviting you or your band of miscreants.”

“I didn’t know I needed an invitation to come into my own home.”

“Hasn’t been your home in three months,” Jas states pushing her way over to Gisborne in order to give Hood her best snotty expression. “Just be honest, pencil dick, you came for the free booze and food.”

“Close, but my men and I are here to collect for the poor. Would everyone please remove their valuables and hand them to that man over there.” Everyone looks in the direction Hood nodded in, Much holding a sack in one hand and a roasted leg of lamb in the other. Hood clears his throat loudly, Much jumping and bringing the sack around the room. “Once you’ve made your donation, you can wait in the next room as quietly as you can until we leave.”

“Good luck removing that.” The attractive man of their group, one Alan-A-Dale, had reached for Jas’s cuff, raising her arm to study it in confusion. “Get your hands off me or lose them, bucko.” The rest of the outlaws navigate the flow of traffic and jewels while Gisborne stands in the perfect position to be half in front of both Jas and Marian.

“Come on, Ranger, you know your fingers are just weighted down by all those rings.”

“Strangely enough, I think I can handle them, Hood.”

“Give them up, you’re no better than anyone else here.” Jas clasps her hands in front of her, silently daring Hood to even attempt to take her jewelry. He’d find his neck taking a sharp turn to the right if he reached for her, but maybe that would solve Gisborne’s love triangle. There came a knock at the door, but Hood merely turns his gaze to Marian. He takes a step closer, Gisborne getting his sword half out of its sheath when the others point their weapons at him.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, baths to take?”

“Marian—”

“Don’t even think of it, Locksley,” Gisborne snaps. “Marian does not carry money on her person.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he knows I’m intelligent,” Marian explains,” I do not carry money in case I’m ever stopped by outlaws.”

“Ah, but this ring would purchase a lot of food for the people of Locksley.” Jas tenses in unison with Gisborne, the knife against her back the only thing keeping her from lashing out. That is his mother’s ring, the only thing he has left of her, and she would be damned before it was lost forever. “We should do this again sometime, it’s been fun.” He backs away with the ring in hand and Jas lunges forward only to have the person behind her yank backwards on her dress.

“Don’t do it,” Djaq warns, shoving her to the side and then to the ground. Djaq was the scrawny Saracen from the mine, a girl masquerading as a man.

“That’s enough,” Gisborne snarls, drawing his sword and swinging at Hood, the outlaw drawing his sword in defense. Jas watches the fight play out, taking in the fluid motions of both men and the sudden flood of anger that filled every line of Hood’s face once Gisborne’s shirtsleeve was ripped to reveal a weird tattoo on his forearm.

Hood moves to land a final blow when Jas tackles him to the ground. “Do not touch him,” she yells, her telekinesis entirely forgotten as a rush of emotions take over. She had just rolled Hood onto his back to strangle him when she felt a sharp pain spread through her middle, the breath knocked out of her as she meets Hood’s surprised gaze.

“Took!” She pushes herself off the curved sword and onto the ground, staring in shock as Gisborne drops to his knees beside her to press his hands over the wound. That’s when she realized it, this truth appearing in front of her like a neon sign that had just flickered on.

“Go and get him,” she hisses, fighting back a groan and squeezing her eyes shut. “This’ll heal in time, but he’s got your ring!” There was hesitance in Gisborne’s eyes and he was biting his bottom lip in worry. “Hurt him back for me.”

“I’ll be back, Took.” And he took off, leaving the other nobility to swarm back into the room and crowd around Jas, Marian using a handkerchief to try and staunch the flow of blood.

_Crap. I'm in love._

Nothing else could explain the loyalty; she didn't exactly pride herself on getting stabbed for people she only liked. As if bleeding out on the floor surrounded by morons and Gisborne chasing after outlaws by himself weren't enough bad karma, she had to go and develop feelings for the bastard.

“This could’ve gone a lot better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book that Jas was reading in this chapter is Interview With the Vampire by Anne Rice and it's a great book for anyone that likes vampires.


	26. Acid Trip

Jas winces as she rolls onto her side, the wound in her stomach healing slowly yet no longer bleeding. It was common knowledge that Rangers can only be killed by their master or others of their kind, so being run through was just a massive pain in the ass—occasionally literally. Still, it was always weird to watch her skin knit back together with only a faint scar to show for it. She had several smaller ones that adorned her arms and shoulders, from sword practice with Dash or just her general clumsiness as a preteen.

The dress she'd worn was a lost cause, so she'd changed once the guards had brought her back to Nottingham, choosing a Jurassic World crop top to leave her stomach bare, a pair of blue and white sleeping shorts, and her black Uggs that served as her slippers in the castle. She wasn't fond of the boots, but they served a purpose.

With a pained grunt, she manages to get off the bed, steadying herself with a hand on the nightstand when the room blurs.

"Note to self," she mumbles as she blinks a few times," avoid swords at all costs." Once she can see clearly again, she stumbles over to the vanity table and practically collapses on the short stool in front of it. Now, she knew she didn't look great, but her reflection showed just how much worse it was; hair falling out of the braid, complexion turned ashen, bottom lip quivering as she fights back a wave of nausea, and her carefully applied eyeliner smudged. "Thank Lucifer for the creation of makeup."

She had just wiped her old makeup off when the door to her room opened, Vaisey stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Hard at work I see."

"The next time you send that physician of yours in here to look after me, I'll feed you your own intestines." Vaisey furrows his brows as he tries to think of the doctor, but the imagine of a thin, arrogant man was still vivid in Jas's mind after the guy had prodded at her open wound. "He's so much of a quack that I half-expected to hear him tell a confused hunter that it's wabbit season!"

"Oh, you're talking about Blight."

"The man's name truly inspires confidence." Jas faces the mirror again and starts on her contouring, going about it carefully as Vaisey begins to speak.

"We captured one of Hood's gang that Gisborne knocked unconscious, the Saracen one, and he seems to be an escape artist." Jas doesn't say anything, eyes nearly crossed in her concentration. "We locked him in the dungeon, but he had an inventive means of escape in the form of liquid hellfire." Jas snorts, smoothing everything to make it look a little more natural before picking up her lipstick and applying a light coat. "What do you make of this?" Realizing Vaisey wouldn't leave her alone until she'd told him something about it, she turns and snatches the glass tube out of his hand, studying everything from the glass stopper to the clear substance inside it.

"What did he do with it?"

"Melted solid iron." Curious, Jas pulls the stopper out and spills a drop on the surface of the table, watching as the liquid burned right through it. "What do you suppose it is?"

"Acid," she says with a shrug, handing it back to Vaisey so she could start on her eyeliner," and not the fun kind either. Takes a skilled hand to make it and not disfigure themselves and it's useful in tight situations or torture sessions."

"Can you make it?"

"Nope, but I reckon Djaq can." Just as sudden as he arrived, Vaisey leaves and her door is slammed behind him. "He's gonna shit his pants when he realizes the Saracen is a girl."

* * *

"Congratulations, Took," Vaisey proclaims as he barges into her room for the second time that day," you're getting your partner in crime back." She arches a brow at that, gingerly poking at the red flesh surrounding what was now a small cut; a few more minutes and she'd be good as new, though it's still tender.

"And who would that be?"

"Gisborne. You didn't notice he was gone either, did you?" Her head snaps up at the news, eyes flashing dangerously as she narrows them in Vaisey's direction. She'd just figured that he was giving her space in case she cried or something, but he was still missing? "Yes, apparently the outlaws are holding him captive in the woods and are willing to trade him for the Saracen boy."

"You didn't realize your second-in-command's been gone for five hours? Were you comatose or do you actually block out that much of your day, Vaisey? You have got to be the stupidest man that I've ever—"

"Oh, shut it, we're making the trade! I've already sent Gisborne's bride-to-be out to tell Hood where to meet." Jas clenches her jaw and gets out of bed again, sliding her feet back into the Jack Skellington boots and shuffling over to the door that Vaisey was holding open. "When on earth did you get that?" She didn't have to look down to see what he'd just noticed, the black sigil of Gondor with  _even darkness must pass_  written below it in an elegant, blue script something she's had for years.

"I got it when I was sixteen." It was small and decorated her left side, her little rebellion against her parents' strict rules about markings. All three of the Took siblings had some sort of tattoo; Jas's being for Lord of the Rings, Dash's was a tattoo of a sparrow inside his left wrist like the fictional pirate's, and Flynn's was a full sleeve on his right arm of a dragon. All three of them were into fantasy elements and chose to express it in a way that would disappoint their father, planning the event years in advance. "We goin' to make the trade or not?"

"Right, yes, this way." Vaisey takes control of Djaq on the way to the meeting place, tugging harshly on the rope around her scrawny neck and chatting away as Jas followed the soldier in front.

The designated meeting place turns out to be underneath the old mine that Hood and his gang had blown sky high, dilapidated and smoky with thin rays of sunlight filtering in through pinholes. Little John was waiting for them in the dead center, Gisborne kneeling on the ground and looking the worse for wear. "Damn, you look worse than I do and I'm the one that got stabbed." Gisborne sends her a look, unable to talk thanks to his gag, and she can see his relief in the way he allowed his shoulders to sag.

"Where's Hood?"

"I'm here," Robin answers as he comes out of the shadows, his companion sending him a stern look as he joins him. "I did not agree to this trade, my vision was clouded, but I'm here now to make the switch. Let him go, Vaisey."

"I take it you haven't been close to this one, eh? Last I checked, most men in fit shape don't have breasts." All the same, Vaisey shoves Djaq over to the two outlaws, Gisborne crawling over to Jas, letting her help him to stand. "Secret's out in the open now, Hood."

"So is yours considering Gisborne would never go to the Holy Land without your permission. He is your loyal dog, after all. Don't bother to deny it, the tattoo on his arm is all the proof I need." Curious, Jas grabs her friend's arm to look it over, able to make out the black markings clearly despite the pink scar running through it and several dark bruises forming around it. "The King's Guard know about that wolf tattoo; they know he is the one that tried to assassinate the King in his own tent."

"Really," Jas asks with some interest, running the tip of her finger along the scar bisecting it. "I find it hard to imagine you bragging about the man that got away, so why should we believe a word you say?"

"I have no reason to lie about it. I will make sure King Richard sees the tattoo when he returns and all of you will pay for it." Vaisey and Jas lock gazes for a moment, her grip tightening on Gisborne's arm as Vaisey raises the tube of acid that hung around his neck.

"Tattoo," he asks innocently," what tattoo?" Gisborne lets out a howl of pain when the acid makes contact, clothing and flesh alike smoking, his hands clenching into fists. "Shut it, you big baby! This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been marked like a girl! Guards, seize them!" Soldiers burst through some of the old wood, their weapons drawn and ready. "Took, do something to shut Gisborne up." Not hesitating, Jas grabs the cloth gag that had fallen loosely around Gisborne's neck and brings it up to gag him again.

"Not fair," he grumbles as well as he can through the gag, trying to jerk out of her tight grasp. 

"You and I need to have a long talk, Gilbert,” she scolds. “That tattoo of yours was just plain awful." Jas continues to berate him for his choices as a rope falls through an old mine shaft, allowing the outlaws a safe exit that made Vaisey stomp his feet in a tantrum. "Alright, buddy, start marching." Gisborne makes a sound of protest until Jas grabs a guard's sword and uses the flat side to hit him. "You let yourself get taken hostage by a bunch of farmers with pitchforks, now get movin' before I have to use my Mom voice!"

"Yes, ma'am...."


	27. Oo-De-Lally

"Just say it."

"Why," Gisborne demands with his customary scowl sent at Took, noticing the way she'd completely relaxed since leaving the castle behind. "It doesn't even make any sense." He'd focused his gaze back on the path, but made the mistake of glancing at her, a soft gasp escaping him when he finds her looking at him with her puppy-dog gaze. She'd widened her eyes and poked her bottom lip out just enough to draw his eyes, making a small pouting noise that never failed to make his resolve crumble.

"Puh-lease, Gilbert?"

"Oo-de-lally." The gibberish came out through clenched teeth, his cheeks flushed a dark red as he glanced around to make sure only Took had heard him. She seemed immensely pleased with herself, like he'd just made all of her dreams come true. She lets out that laugh of hers again, the one that made him have to fight down one of his own because of how  _ridiculous_  it was, all high-pitched with her head thrown back.

Gisborne ducks his head, trying not to look her way as his blush deepens. After all this time with having Took around, he's grown so used to her presence that it's almost a shock when he spends time around other ladies that don't offer her same sense of humor. Perhaps the two of them got along so well because she reminded him of Marian in that she wasn't scared to death of him? He wasn't entirely sure on that, but he did like how she didn't hesitate to speak her mind around him.

"You had really bad breath this morning," Took states after a beat of silence," like, it could peel paint off a wall."

Then again, there were moments he was tempted to put her over his knee and give her a good spanking.

"You can be quiet anytime now, Took," he snaps with a glare, only growing more frustrated as she grins at him. She often did that when she got on his nerves, like it was her personal mission to make sure his dark mood didn't bother her. "Or I could always order you do dig a nice latrine in Locksley where all the peasants can see."

"I'd like to see you try, Colonel Klink." He had no idea who that person was, but he could tell it wasn’t any sort of compliment by the way she'd said it. "Is your buddy supposed to meet us at the sight with his Black Powder?"

"Yes, I sent some guards ahead to make sure he arrives safely." That was the whole point of this morning's excursion, to show Vaisey exactly what Gisborne and Lambert had managed to create after months of experimenting and puns from Took. She was meant to help as well since they had Greek Powder—Black Powder, as she stubbornly called it—in her realm, but she mainly sat on high surfaces to feel taller than she was and told them about the ducks she kept at her cottage. The fact that she named one of them Thorin and then giggled like it was some inside joke always made him question her sanity.

"Think we can get through all of this without unforeseen consequences?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you." Things never seemed to go smoothly since Hood returned from the crusades and Gisborne had learned to just go with whatever disaster struck instead of throwing tantrums.

Okay, so he threw tantrums when he returned to Locksley, but he was entitled to them from time to time.

"You ever get the feeling that the planets have aligned in the perfect position to wreak havoc on our plans?"

"Every day, Took."

"Yeah, me too." He glances over at her again, taking in the way her eyes never stayed focused on one thing for long and how she kept her back straight and shoulders squared in a military poise that had to have been drilled into her head as a child for it to come so naturally to her, a warrior through and through. Even when she was completely relaxed, slouching in her chair at Locksley, there was an alertness about her that never truly left, almost like she was expecting someone to appear in a puff of smoke and make an attempt on her life.

Gisborne would never let that happen, he wouldn't risk never seeing that grin of hers again, the contagious one that she put all of herself into. Between the grins and the quiet singing he heard every evening, he'd grown attached to the Ranger, unable to process what his life will be like when Marian comes to live with them and Took builds her walls back up. It's one of the things he wasn't looking forward to, knowing he'd have to deal with a lot of awkward silences between the two women where he'd be stuck in the middle.

Don't get him wrong, he loved Marian more than he's loved any woman, but he knew the two stubborn women would clash and he wasn't sure who's side he would end up taking. Marian would be his wife, but Took's been at his back almost since they met and she's never once tried to manipulate him apart from that first day when they'd nearly kissed. She was playful in her affection, like she didn't have to worry about it if it wasn't real.

"Earth to Gilbert," she calls loudly, smacking his leg," this is the Captain speaking." He blinks a few time to clear those pesky thoughts from his head, looking down to find Took standing beside his horse. "You okay, big guy?"

"Never better," he murmurs, getting down and handing off his horse's reigns to the nearest guard. Ahead of them, Lambert was making a trail of the Greek Powder, the black substance standing out sharply against the dying grass and white sand on the ground, a thick line starting several yards away and ending a few feet in front of them when Lambert stoppers the small barrel in his arms.

"We are ready," he states, taking a lit torch with a smile, addressing Marian next. "Forgive our excitement, Madam, but we've been waiting months for this." Gisborne offers up his half-smile, pleased at Marian's excitement as she moves to stand on his left and Took takes up her place on his right.

"Have no doubt, this display will leave all of you astonished."

"Right, what I'm about to show you is that we can control the charge of the Powder, which will allow the miners to increase production in the mines without the loss of life that often accompanies the profession."

"It would be wise for you to dismount, My Lord," Gisborne warns Vaisey, barely sparing him a glance as the other man yawns in boredom.

"Why should I—" But Took didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence, grabbing the back of his cloak and yanking with enough force to make him topple out of the saddle, a satisfied grin settling on her lips.

“Took, what do we say?”

“Oops,” Took says in a completely unapologetic tone, not even looking back at the Sheriff as he stands and dusts himself off,” my bad, I am so very sorry, My Lord. However can I repay you for this disresp—” She cuts herself off, laughing again and pointing at Vaisey with her thumb. “I’m sorry, I tried.” It takes all of Gisborne’s self-control not to laugh, but he’s proud to say his expression remained impartial.

He gives a nod to Lambert, the other man setting the torch against the Powder until sparks showered from it, running along the black line. All but Vaisey move behind the wooden structure erected earlier that morning to protect themselves from any debris, Vaisey sprinting to join them as the sparks become flames as tall as himself, and then all were falling to the ground as the pile of Greek Powder explodes.

Out of instinct, as he would proclaim later on, he covers a woman with his body to protect her from the wooden splinters raining down on them, hands over her ears at the tremendous  _boom_  that split the air like thousands of trees falling in unison. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes again that he realized the woman beneath him was wearing a floral top that bared her midsection and her honey-sweet smell masked the acrid tang of the smoke billowing up into the sky.

“Are you okay,” Took asks when he jerks away from her, nearly tumbling backwards as she rises up on her knees. Her eyes have gone wide as she studies him, taking in everything from his shortness of breath to the spots of color high on his cheeks. Gisborne clears his throat and gives her a nod as they stand, helping Marian to her feet before they emerged from behind the shelter.

“Well done,” he complements his childhood friend, clapping him on the shoulder as they gazed at the newly fashioned crater in pride.

“Amazingly done,” Vaisey yells from inside the pit,” I want as many barrels as you can make in a week, huge ones!” Gisborne and Took share amused looks, the woman wiping some gray ash off her arm. It was strange when he thought about it, how they could read each other so well now and yet he couldn’t even tell what Marian felt unless she spoke the words to him.

“If I’m to make more of the Powder, then I have requirements.” That succeeded in drawing Gisborne’s attention away from the women, blue eyes finding Lambert’s face with warning in them. Vaisey wasn’t one for bartering, he’d rather take everything and give nothing back. “I must be allowed to sell my discovery to other mining concerns, I will get a bonus for all the work I’ve done, and my Powder must never be used as a weapon.” Three conditions, just three simple things that would put Lambert at ease, and Gisborne could only be sure of the first two.

“I do believe this is the start of a beautiful future,” Vaisey states as he joins the men, his false smile in place that whispered of his vile nature beneath the mask of friendship,” trust in me, Lambert, and your terms shall be met.”  _Trust in me, believe in me, give me everything you possess and I shall make you rich beyond your wildest dreams_. Gisborne had fallen for the actor’s smile, the same one on Vaisey’s face now, but Lambert was a smarter man and knew what needed to be done to prevent further damage.

“No.” One word, a negative, and it had Gisborne’s stomach doing a flip, his breakfast threatening to make a grand appearance as his frown deepens. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, this was supposed to be a day of celebration, but Lambert couldn’t stick to the initial plan. They were meant to make Vaisey think he’d have it all and then burn the ledger where all of Lambert’s notes have been stored, to keep this project out of Vaisey’s greedy paws, but keep the reward.

“Lambert,” Gisborne warns, audible this time to match his sharp look. “Think about what you’re saying.”

“I cannot trust you.” The sound of swords being drawn has Gisborne tensing on instinct as all of them begin to close in on Lambert, Gisborne falling back on his secondary plan in case this happened. He’d informed Took of it despite Lambert’s warnings not to and he knew she wouldn’t use her magic to keep Lambert from getting a head start into Sherwood. “Let me go before there’s any trouble.”

But they all kept advancing, trying to corner him like one might do to a startled animal. In one sudden movement, Lambert withdraws a stoppered horn of the Powder, Gisborne and Vaisey diving to the ground as it’s thrown and Lambert begins his sprint into outlaw territory, the horn exploding on contact and creating a small dip in the ground just three yards from their faces.

“Get him,” Vaisey shouts as Lambert draws another, the Sheriff’s face going red in his anger. “I want him alive!” The guards begin the chase, Gisborne following them after a glance reveals Marian and Took unharmed. With the guards and Lambert on foot, Gisborne trails behind on horseback, urging Arastos forward past trees and over the steep hills of the forest after his prey.

“You can’t run forever,” he calls out, disappointment thrumming in his breast as he continued the chase. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, they were meant to be safe and on the way back to the castle by now. They had a plan, dammit! Why was it so hard for the people in his life to just make the right decisions for once? It took less time than Gisborne had hoped in order to catch up with his friend, a black-outfitted guard holding him with a sword to his throat. “You did not really think I’d allow you to renege on our deal?”

“There is no deal,” Lambert shoots back defiantly,” not after you lied to me, Guy.”

“Search him.”

“You promised it would not be used as a weapon, you promised!”

“The ledger, where have you hidden it?”

“Greek Powder is not some toy for you to throw around when you feel annoyed by a band of outlaws, it is dangerous!” Gisborne and Lambert’s eyes meet, a silent conversation of an entirely different nature occurring without the dim-witted soldiers catching on. Lambert still trusted him, but he had his own plan and Gisborne could not be involved yet. This act would prove Gisborne innocent when the ledger is destroyed and the formula with it,  _this_  had been Lambert’s plan all along. “I’ve hidden it somewhere you and you master will never find it.” Gisborne doesn’t look away even as Vaisey and Took join them on their own mounts, the silent conversation ending with a vow.

“Your friend here seems to enjoy the power he wields,” Vaisey remarks with a haughty smile that meant no good. “Congratulations, Lambert, you’ve just become the most important man in all of Nottingham. In fact, it’s earned you the best cell in our dungeon, so enjoy it.” Gisborne and Lambert exchange one last look, Gisborne allowing the slightest of nods before galloping after the others.

 _I’ll get you out of this, Lambert, I swear to God_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arastos is an ancient Greek warrior—Greek myth name of a king of Argos, meaning "he who stands his ground," in other words "courageous."


	28. Gisborne's Guilt

With the prisoner safely escorted to the dungeon, Gisborne allows himself a moment of silence in the less visited part of the castle, back against the wall and chin against his chest. He needed the break to collect his rampaging emotions, just a moment to breathe without someone trying to figure out what it all meant. He still had guilt gnawing at him about Lambert's capture and he doubted it would ever really go away.

He was just beginning to get his sense of calm back when he heard a soft voice floating out of one of the rooms, the husky, rasping quality telling him exactly who his surprise guest is even before he could make out the words. On quiet feet, he moves away from the wall and starts down the curved hallway, following the sound until he came to the very last door. It wasn't shut all the way, a thin line of light spilling out across the stone floor, and he rested a hand against the wood, pushing it open just enough to peer inside.

" _Think how snug it'll be underneath our flannel when it's just you and me and the English Channel_ ," Took sang to herself, moving around the empty room as though she were at a ball, her arms outstretched like she had a dancing partner. " _In our cozy retreat kept all neat and tidy, we'll have chums over every Friday, by the sea! Don't you love the weather? By the sea! We'll grow old together by the seaside, whoa, by the beautiful sea_ …."

She trails off into a hum, still moving in time with the song with a smile on her face that he hasn't seen since she spirited his son away from Nottingham. It surprises him how much he's missed it, how her features softened and the mask of arrogance fell away.

"You've a beautiful voice." She stops abruptly and nearly falls when he speaks, one hand going to her chest while her head snaps up to look at him. He pushes the door open completely and steps inside, gaze moving from the top of her head all the way to her toes and back again, eyes lingering on the long, pale scar that marred the smooth flesh of her belly.

That was his fault, she'd taken a wound meant for him and would have died had she been human. His breath catches in his throat and the guilt nearly overwhelms him again, his teeth grinding and a tic starting up in his jaw.

"It's not your fault, Gisborne." He jumps when he feels a smooth hand cupping his face, not having heard her crossing the room to him. "Lambert made his choice, but I promise that we'll get him out alive somehow."

"That's only part of my guilt." Gisborne takes a step back and lays a hand on the scar that cut a vertical line through her belly button, the line of paler skin raised slightly away from the rest. It was similar to the one that he'd once had on his forearm, though that had been replaced by a larger one from the acid, rough and pink. "You could have died and I still left you to chase after Hood."

"I  _told_  you to go after him, you dolt." Her words weren't as biting as he'd expected them to be and he stares at her for a long moment. Her cheeks were flushed from her earlier activities and she still had that soft smile in place, her free hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "None of what's happened is your fault."

"Yes it is."

"Boy, if you don't stop blaming yourself for every little thing that goes wrong, then I'll punch you in the mouth so hard you'll be shitting out teeth for a month." Her southern accent became thicker when she was angry and she did this thing where her lips would purse and her brows furrow, looking more adorable than anything else. Still, he knew she prided herself on keeping her threats honest, so he gives a curt nod of his head in understanding.

“How are we supposed to get Lambert out of here without Vaisey being suspicious?” Took gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, her smile widening. “How…. What are we supposed to do in this situation?” It was hard to think with her so close, he felt lightheaded and the sweet scent that clung to her was intoxicating.

“Vaisey chose me to extract the information about the leger, I’ll work him over a little to make it look official, get the directions, and then…. And then I’ll take care of everything so you won’t be held accountable once the ledger is secured.”

“You’re going to kill him?” They lock gazes, her brown eyes flicking back and forth between his for a moment as her smile diminishes. She would do what she had to, he knew that, but he wasn’t sure how much more his conscious could stand if he allowed her to do this for him. “Took….”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but what does that have to do with this?”

“I know you care for the guy, he’s like your brother in some ways. I’m not blind, I could see it in the way you both acted around each other while you worked.” Gisborne lowers his stare to his boots, the black leather scuffed and in need of polishing. “Trust me when I say I’ll do everything I can for him, call it your engagement present.”

“I trust you, Took, more than you know.”

The sound of chainmail and boots marching on stone makes the two of them look at the door, Took taking a couple of steps away to keep the approaching soldier from thinking anything romantic was going on. A few seconds later, a black-clad guard stepped inside, one of Vaisey’s men, huffing and puffing as though he’d just ran a mile.

“Sir Guy,” the man gasps out,” a prisoner in the dungeon. One of Hood’s men.” Gisborne rolls his eyes skyward, wondering what he’d done in his past life to warrant all the hardships in this one. “What should we do with him, M’lord?”

“Wait in the hall for me and close the door behind you,” he commands with a biting glare, the soldier practically tripping over himself to obey. Once the door was shut and the soldier had moved further up the hall, Gisborne looks to his second-in-command. “I’ll take care of Hood’s man if you’ll try and reason with Lambert.”

“You got yourself a deal there, Gilbert.” She claps him on the back as she passes, leading the way out of the room, whistling happily as she went.

“I’m friends with a crazy woman.”


	29. Messages From the Master

There was a loud ringing in her ears, drowning out all the other sounds as she focused entirely on the body hanging in front of her; a stomach that was soft in places, bruises blooming against pale flesh in shades of blue and yellow, some larger than others from her fists. Her hands were steady as she continued in her torture, using her knife to cause shallow cuts over the man's ribs and the fleshy part of his hips. It's not until she feels a tug on a lock of her hair that she realizes she and Lambert aren’t the only ones in the dungeon.

She turns, having to blink a few times to come back to her normal self and realize that Vaisey was standing right behind her, his brows raised as he takes her in. Disheveled and not quite as coherent as she normally is, Jas was a sight to see. Her previous state had almost been trance-like as she replayed the conversation she had with Gisborne earlier, trying to come up with a plan that would keep both men involved from being hurt too badly.

"Has he told you anything," Vaisey asks, hands clasped behind his back.

"Nothing beyond a few whimpers," she states, grabbing a rag to dry her hands. Lambert was suspended from a stone arch, chains wrapped around his wrists just tightly enough to keep him in place but not to cut off his circulation. She's taken care not to damage anything major, just enough bruises and shallow cuts that looked nasty to keep Vaisey off her back. "Your man's tougher than he looks, but they always break."

"Yes, well, run along for now and do whatever it is Ranger's do when they're not needed."

"Reap souls and create Hell on earth?" She gives him a look, nose crinkled and head tilted slightly to the side. Her older brother always called it her Sam Winchester Confusion face, but she didn't see it.

"Or have a nice cup of tea, whatever works for you." She gives Vaisey and Gisborne a bright smile before skipping over to the stairs.

Two of Vaisey's men stood on either side of the door in the hall, one of their hands on the hilts of their swords and looking straight ahead at the wall. "Anything exciting happen today?" No response, which was normal considering they only spoke to her when they had no other choice. At this point, she mainly talked to pass the time around the Goon Patrol; it was kind of like trying to make the royal guards in England react to her doing the Chicken Dance around them for ten minutes. 

She was just wondering if she could make the guards laugh when she felt it. It was like a small charge of electricity, just enough to make the fine hairs on her arms stand straight up, a sudden chill pervading the hallway, and the static of magic made her let out a sharp gasp.

Jas tenses all over, staring straight ahead at the wall until she heard the familiar booming voice of the Court Messenger. "Countess Took of the Cottage," it rings out, echoing off stone and making her fingers clench in an attempt to control her magic," our master is in need of conversation with you!" Swallowing hard, she slowly turns to face the Messenger. He was taller than any other demon she'd ever seen, clothed in the pale blue his station called for, the silk making up a tunic and breeches with dark plum-colored stars around the highly starched collar. His flesh was marbled, black and silver, and his eyes—iris and the sclera—were pitch black while his pupils were like gold, slit like a cat's.

"Give me a moment," she starts, feigning confidence as she gestures at the door," I need to inform—"

"You will come at once!" It took all of her self-control not to flinch away from the voice, her heart speeding up and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Court Messengers were a terrifying force, a long battle axe strapped across his back, finely carved onyx capable of removing heads with one swing, and she could see the hilt of his dagger clipped to his breeches, enchanted to kill even the Rangers.

"Aye, sir." She bobs a formal curtsy and follows him through the halls, feeling like a scolded child as his magic wraps around her to change her outfit into something more formal. While they weren't forced to wear elaborate gowns anymore, the nobility had to wear formal clothing in the presence of their master. The bloodstained crop top and mini skirt changed to an off the shoulder white blouse with a black underbust corset with attached skirts, black strappy heels, a gold snakehead arm band, and a necklace with an opal stone the size of her thumbnail.

The Messenger grabs a passing servant and then Jas's wrist, his sharpened claws digging in as his magic wrapped around them and transported them deep into the woods to the Portal, the trees overhead swaying with the force of the whirlwind that the Messenger's magic had stirred up. Jas was breathless from it, goosebumps breaking out across her arms from the chill.

"Complete the call," he commands, voice so deep that it almost sounded like a growl. Her hands were shaking as she pulls the servant over to the Portal, making him kneel in front of her with his head tilted back before pulling out her knife and cutting a deep gash in the human's throat, dark red blood gushing out across the black surface.

The water began to ripple, moving outwards from the center, and she allows the corpse to fall to the side, her bloodied hands ripping the necklace from around her neck and dropping it into the water next. The necklace bobbed on the surface for a second before the opal dissolved, the water freezing over completely in seconds, so cold that she could see the steam rising off of it. The steam continued to rise, swirling in the air a foot from her face, oval-shaped and white as the clouds overhead, the middle turning to something resembling glass, her master's upper torso filling the frame.

Lucifer was tall and beautiful in a cold way, all sharp angles and piercing amber eyes, his muscles made obvious by the tailored grey suit he has on; aloof arrogance and horrible fury the only emotions he displays to his underlings and right now it was a mixture of the two that he directed her way. Out of respect and a fear for her life, she bows hear head and clasps her hands behind her back.

"Countess Took of the Cottage, Highness," the Messenger announces as he moves to stand on her right, head held high and his thick mane of dark green hair hanging down over his shoulders with intricate braids leaving his pointed ears bared. Like all the Court Messengers that came before him, Samil had Elvish ties, warped after eons in the pit until he became the twisted soul his is now, pointy ears and all.

Lucifer turned his eyes on her, the irises seeming to reflect every shadow in the realms, his lips were fixed into a scowl and the tips of his golden hair were covered in frost. Now, anyone who read the bible would probably expect something profound or Old Testament-y, but he had adjusted to the modern world splendidly.

“What the fuck are you doin’, Took?”

Maybe a little too well.

“Highness, I—”

“You’re doing something nice for a human, a human of the male variety, a dude.”

“Yeah,” Jas snaps with a roll of her eyes, raising her head to meet his gaze,” but you’d do the same thing if you caught a glimpse of his leather-clad ass.” Lucifer scoffs, leaning back in his swivel chair and resting his booted feet on the mahogany desk. Her ancestor acted so much like her father that it was scary at times. It was the exact position Basil Took was in whenever he called his children into the room to scold them for whatever mischief that had caused their mother to pop a Xanax.

Dinah was practically high twenty-four hours a day when Dash and Jasmine were teething.

“What have I told you all your life, Jasmine?” She sighs, wishing he’d use her nickname for once, but she’d probably have a heart attack and keel over if that happened. “I mean, not developing feelings for humans beyond the usual contempt isn’t too much to ask for. Tell ‘er, Samil.” Jas closes her eyes to keep from wincing, Samil still speaking in the voice meant for the great halls of the Court.

“It is not hard at all, Magnificence! The Countess merely thinks with her heart instead her logical mind!” It’s Lucifer’s turn to sigh, he and Jas sharing a long look, neither of them a big fan of the Messenger’s yelling.

“Thank you, Samil, but maybe a bit softer next time.” Samil bows at the waist at their master’s advice, his back so straight when he rises that Jas could have sworn there was a well-placed broomstick up his ass. Lucifer clears his throat, locking his fingers behind his head, and focusing the full force of his gaze on Jas again. “You remember the last time you fell for a human, don’t you?”

“I've never fallen for a human, Majesty!”

“Not you, Samil, I meant the woman I called.”

“Apologies, Your Illustriousness!” Lucifer rolls his eyes, frowning at the Messenger with a thoughtful look that she knew meant he was wondering why he’d sent this one at all. He could do this all day if he had the time, judging all of his servants and writing down all of their flaws; he showed her the list when she was nine, he said she needed to stop crying when her brother threw rocks at her, so she’d kicked his shin and stormed out. 

They’ve been close ever since.

“Jasmine, to make a long lecture short, if you do something to jeopardize your contract because of your feelings for the human, then I will make what happened to your Garen seem like child’s play.” Jas felt an icy chill make its way through her veins, the mention of her son’s murder making her feel equal parts furious and despondent. “Always remember what human blood has caused you and what your favorite ancestor is capable of.”

“Yes, my master,” she says with another formal nod,” always.”

And then the connection was broken, the steam disappearing and the ice shattering, Jas dropped back into reality without the inescapable cold that always followed her master. Supernatural had that right, at least, he burned cold in every sense of the word.

“Good day to you, Countess T—”

“Fuck off, Samil."


	30. The Greater Good

It was late afternoon when Took returned to the castle, Gisborne letting out a breath of relief when he spots her walking his way. She'd changed since he last saw her and he could see red marks along her throat as if something had been ripped from it violently, causing anger to build in him. "Where have you been," he asks softly when she's just a few feet away, her head bowed. "What happened?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about," she mumbles without meeting his gaze. She tries to walk past him, but Gisborne grabs her arm to keep her in place, putting his fingers under her chin and forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed from tears and she was pale from fright, but he couldn’t think of anything able to scare a Ranger. “Gilbert, please….”

“Not until you tell me what’s happened to you.” He lowers his voice and leans his head down to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard by passing soldiers or servants, concern coloring his tone. “Tell me who has upset you and I will decorate a pike with their head.” She offers up a bitter laugh, shaking her head and looking down at her shoes again.

“That’ll be an amazing feat considering the person responsible is Satan.” Gisborne swallows hard at the news, the color draining from his cheeks until they were ashen. Humans he could handle, Rangers he could try his hand at, but _Lucifer_? How in the hell could he stand a chance of defending her honor now?

“Well…. Point out a random human and I’ll hold them still while you throat punch them.” He gets a pitiful laugh at that, Took’s head coming up with that soft smile curving her lips upwards. He could stare at her forever if that smile remained on her face; she put every bit of tenderness she had into it and he would kill anyone she hated to see it more often. It disappeared as quickly as it happened and Took raised a hand to tug on her hair, quickly undoing the elaborate bun she’d had it in.

Seeing her so torn up after her meeting was like a punch to the gut, the sight of her worried an unfamiliar thing that made him sick. He didn’t like this side of her, so vulnerable and upset and…. _Human_. She was meant to be some otherworldly being that had her entire life put together, never too upset or frazzled; the Took he knew would never be so close to falling apart in front of so many people, she would rather die than have that happen.

So he did the only logical thing he could think of: He scooped her up in his arms and began to sprint across the castle grounds, not stopping until they were in her bedroom with the door shut firmly behind them.

Carefully, he sets her down on the bed and then kneels on the ground in front of her, letting her have the high ground to regain her confidence. She was still pulling softly at her hair, but at least she was meeting his gaze, lips moving as she whispered the song that always calmed her down.

“Are you alright, Took?” She stares at him blankly for a moment and then squares her shoulders with hard resolve forming in her dark eyes. She’d come to some sort of decision, but what that was is something he didn’t know. “Took… I’m not sure I like that look, it usually comes before you do something morally questionable.”

“We’re gonna break Lambert out of the dungeon,” she states, standing with her hands clasped loosely into fists and her chest puffed out. “And we’re gonna do it right now.” He rises quickly, catching up to her as she makes it to her sitting room, Gisborne closing the door from where she’d managed to open it a few inches. “What’s the deal? Let’s go play superheroes!”

“Why?” Her head tilts to the left as she looks up at him, Gisborne suddenly realizing how close he’d brought them by shutting the door. This close to her, he could make out the smattering of freckles she tried to hide and streaks of amber in her irises.

“For the greater good.”


	31. Prison Break

With all the confidence she could muster after her life was threatened by her master, Jas marches down the stairs into the dungeon, not stopping until she was standing in front of Lambert’s cell. “Open it,” she commands of the jailer, gaze locked on the human behind the bars. Sweat soaked into his tunic and she could see traces of blood as well. He wouldn’t hold out for much longer, he would break as all humans do in the end.

“All due respect, Ranger,” the jailer starts,” but the Sheriff has demanded that—” She cuts him off with only a look, all the pent up rage over the years showing in her brown eyes. “Of course, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you were the one to take the prisoner out….” The human moves quickly, producing the keys and unlocking the cell before stepping aside for Jas to enter.

“On your feet, Lambert.” Lambert gazes up at her in suspicion, struggling on the floor to get away from her.

“I’m afraid his legs are broken, ma’am.” Jas rolls her eyes, producing her knife and making a shallow cut across her palm, watching the blood rise to the surface. Moving swiftly as the wound knits closed again, she holds her hand over Lambert’s mouth, pinching his nose closed so he was forced to drink the silver liquid. Seconds afterwards, she could hear the sharp pops of bones resetting, her hand over Lambert’s mouth the only thing muffling his screams.

Impatient to get things moving, Jas grabs his arm and yanks him roughly into a standing position, pulling him after her towards the back wall of the dungeon where they’d be out of sight of the jailer. “You and I are going on a little trip to Sherwood.”

“I will not give you the ledger,” he states resolutely, all human stubbornness that didn’t last under pressure.

“Well, lucky for us that I don’t want it.” Looking over her shoulder to ensure the jailer hadn’t followed them, Jas presses on one of the large, dark stones above her head and then pulls the iron sconce on her right, a section of the wall swinging outward without a sound. “Move.” She pushes him ahead of her, putting her knife back in her corset, the cool metal resting snuggly against her ribs, and kicking the wall closed.

She kept close behind Lambert to ensure he didn’t try anything, the trip to the stables largely uneventful, and no one tried to intervene when she and Lambert rode out of Nottingham on Tug’s back. Not even Vaisey’s soldiers would stand up to her if they could avoid it and she doubted any of them knew that Lambert was of any importance to their Lord.

“Why are we going to Sherwood?”

“I have a contact there who will spirit you away from this mess you’ve created.”

“Forgive me, but I find it hard to believe that a Ranger is offering me help.”

“Yeah,” Jas sighs, steering Tug along a less used path that led to the heart of the forest,” it’s like the Spanish Inquisition, no one expects it.” Lambert tenses the further they go into the forest, constantly looking around for any sort of trap in the dark foliage. Jas had risked too much now for something like that to happen and she’d gladly decapitate any asshole that tries to stop her.

“Why would you help me at all?”

“Our mutual friend is beating himself up over your capture and it’s giving me a migraine.” It’s the best excuse she could think of on short notice and she’d just have to stick with it if her master inquired as to her motives. While having a child with a human was toeing the line of her master’s patience, deliberately disobeying was tap dancing on it.

Damn Gisborne and the butterflies he caused.

“You’re doing this for  _Guy_?”

“I’m doing this for what’s left of my sanity, Lambert, nothing more.” She pulls slightly on the reigns, Tug coming to a gentle stop half a second later.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Because you’ve arrived at your destination,” Hood calls out, he and his gang of meddling kids stepping out from behind the trees to stand in front of the riders. “Welcome to Sherwood Forest, Lambert.”

“Your contact is an outlaw?” Jas just dismounts, helping Lambert down as well before facing the gang again. “How do you know they will not simply continue torturing me?”

“Their moral code wouldn’t allow that,” she assures him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Where’s the one that I can stand?” All of Hood’s group were there apart from the kind one that had offered her fruit and she felt uneasy about not seeing him. Was he waiting to incapacitate her?

“You haven’t heard,” Hood asks with raised brows. “Vaisey’s made him the Lord of Bonchurch on the hope that the peasants would flock to the Sheriff in loyalty.” Of course Vaisey would come up with a convoluted plan like that. If anything, the peasants will just shun Vaisey for Much. “Has he told you where the ledger is yet?”

“Haven’t asked.” All eyes turn to Lambert now, the human shrinking away from the attention. “Lambert, tell us the location and you’re free to go knowing that it will be destroyed.”

“I’ll not trust something like that in the hands of a Ranger,” he replies, meeting her stare even as his fear spiked. She could see the resolve in his dark eyes, nearly as pronounced as his terror, and she would admit that it was an admirable feat. “I will go and get it by myself and I will burn it, but  _you_  will not accompany me.”

“Fair enough.” He seemed surprised that she agreed so readily, but the truth is that she couldn’t care less about any of this. As long as Lambert was taken away and Gisborne was safe, then she was a happy girl. “Hood, you and Jolly Green will go with Lambert.”

“Who,” Djaq asks, brows furrowing.

“Jonny Boy, I meant Johnny Boy. Lucifer,” she mutters, walking back to her horse,” it’s like communicating with children sometimes.” Once back in the saddle with Tug’s reigns in hand, she speaks again for everyone to hear. “Anything happens to Lambert and I’ll personally strangle you all with your own intestines.”

“No worries,” Allan says with a grin. “We’ll get your man to the docks and find him a ship that’ll take ‘im wherever he needs to be.”

“Allan, I wouldn’t trust you with my cat let alone a human life, so you’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing you.” Her gaze turns to Hood again, searching for any sign that he would betray her and finding nothing; the man would make Mother Teresa look like Dahmer. “I’ll find a ship for him while you destroy the ledger and we’ll meet at Locksley when you’ve finished.” With that, she gallops away, back towards the castle where Gisborne was waiting anxiously for news.

She would do right by the human she’s grown so fond of or she’d die trying.


	32. Explosions and Confrontations

It was late afternoon the next day when Jas and Gisborne met Hood in the forest, the outlaw by himself for once and riding a stolen horse. “What d’you want now, Ranger,” he demands, eyes narrowed in distrust.

“We just thought you’d like to take the blame for destroying Lambert’s project,” she shrugs, matching his gaze without a trace of worry in her features. Her stomach was tying itself in knots over what her master might do to punish her, but she had to finish this job. If Vaisey had all that Black Powder to do with as he pleased, then she may no longer be needed around here.

“In exchange for what?”

“Nothing at all. In fact, Gilly and I will set everything up so that you’ll only have to loose an arrow.” A tic starts up in Hood’s jaw, the only true sign of his annoyance with the duo. “Think of it, Hood, think of all the atrocities Vaisey could commit with three large barrels of the Powder. If someone couldn’t pay their taxes, then he could blow them to smithereens.”

“ _Alright_ , you’ve made your point. Where and when?”

“Vaisey arranged for us to move the barrels tomorrow afternoon,” Gisborne answers begrudgingly,” Took and I will make sure that there's a line of the Greek Fire leading out of the cavern and she will make sure no one can get inside before you get the fire started.” She knew he hated the idea of working alongside Hood, but she also knew that, despite all his claims, he didn’t want to see the damage Black Powder could do to people.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” They exchanged curt nods, knowing that any attempt at a handshake could end with a brawl. “Tomorrow afternoon at the caverns.”

“Make sure you’re not seen by the Sheriff’s men or I’ll be forced to hang you before you’ve done anything useful.” With those parting words and a look of distaste in Hood’s direction, Gisborne takes up his stallion’s reigns and gallops out of the forest, Jas following behind him at a more comfortable pace.

Her thoughts were on what would need to happen tomorrow afternoon before Hood got there, about how to ensure the traitors Gisborne had discovered were trapped inside the cavern without the outlaw figuring it out. Could she use her telekinesis to keep them from running out? No, that wouldn’t work because she wouldn’t be close enough to make sure none of them wiggled free.

How was this going to work in the end?

* * *

Late the next day, a group of disloyal guards were rounded up to gather the Powder from the cavern where three large barrels were hidden while Gisborne, Took, and Vaisey watched from a safe distance. They'd planned this out to the last detail yet Gisborne still found himself biting his lip as events progressed. Just the day before, he and Took had come out here and dumped most of the Greek Fire on the cavern floor in one big pile with a thin trail leading out, hidden under some of the dying grass.

"What did you do with Lambert," Vaisey questions on Gisborne's left. Took stays quiet for a moment, her eyes locked on the large boulders above the cavern entrance. She would have to focus harder than ever to get those to move in a way that looks like it's just an average collapsing.

"Left him in the woods," she murmurs," figured those cute woodland creatures could feed off him for a few days." Gisborne remains silent through it all, lips pressed together in a stern line as he watches the men inch inside. Even though he knew it was a lie and that his friend was safe in London, Gisborne still felt sick at what Took said.

She cuts her gaze in his direction, waiting for his subtle nod before allowing the boulders to crash down over the entrance of the cavern. He winces at the sound, not expecting it to be quite so loud, though it did a marvelous job of drowning out the screams for help. It wouldn’t be long now before Hood showed up, the collapse being his signal to get moving.

“Any time now,” he mutters under his breath, too low for anyone to hear him. He strained to hear anything from the woods where he knew hood was skulking around, but it still seemed like the flaming arrow appeared out of nowhere, leaving a trail of red embers in its wake. “Don’t miss this time, Hood.” But he didn’t need to worry, the arrow struck directly in the trail, the Powder cutting a line through grass and dirt as it made its way through the crack in a boulder, the entire cavern blown to pieces soon after.

Gisborne covers his eyes with his arm, the bright flash almost blinding, and he scowls as a few large pieces of rock land less than a foot away from him, spooking the horses. They were supposed to be out of range of the blast and it seems his and Took’s calculations had just barely been right.

“What,” Vaisey shouts, face going red and his hands shaking from how hard he was clenching the reigns. “Gisborne, what the hell was  _that_?”

“Obviously those men were disloyal,” Gisborne states with a frown,” they must have decided that since they couldn’t get the barrels out, they would commit suicide so that no one could have them, My Lord.” With growled curses and a promise of punishment, Vaisey gallops off, leaving Took and Gisborne behind.

“Are we sure they were traitors,” Took asks after a moment of silence as Hood came striding out of the forest.

“I found letters in their chambers when I made an inspection, they were allied with the French and have been sending them information from the start.”

“You said there would be no one in the cavern when I blew it up,” Hood accuses when he finally makes it over to them, his green eyes filled with rage that only increased when he saw how unconcerned Jas and Gisborne were about the loss of life. “You lied and caused me to murder four innocent men!”

“They were traitors,” Gisborne snarled back at him,” the lie allowed us to dispose of French loyalists!”

“As for making you do our dirty work,” Jas adds with a smile,” we’re bad guys, it’s what we do.”


	33. Sunbathing in Nottingham

After falling right through the chaise lounge she'd summoned, Jas tried to make the most of her morning by staying right where she was and attempting to enjoy the limited sunlight on the stone balcony. Sure, she was still the uncomfortable position of her ass touching cold stone while her arms and legs stuck upward out of the hole, but the bikini she had on made her boobs look great.

"For once, why can't you just dress like a normal woman," Gisborne questions as he comes outside with Vaisey, both men dressed for the weather. While it would be chilly for humans, it was almost perfect for someone who grew up around the asshole that runs Hell. "Would it kill you?"

"Do you want to test that or would you rather have me making witty comments?"

"I didn't know you were witty." She gives him a teasing look over the rim of her sunglasses, grabbing the white hat out of his hands and plopping it down on her head, the ends of the straw hat floppy. The past week had been relatively boring, their newest prisoner—or  _guest_  as the prisoner thought—kept in a certain wing of the castle to keep from being too much of a nuisance.

"I'll have you know that I'm extremely witty, I could win a witty contest with Oscar Wilde."  _I can't, but a girl has the right to dream_. "Anyway, it doesn't matter because I'm having a nice morning. I mean, the lounge was a bit faulty, but I could stay like this all day with my bottle of wine." She's been sipping on it since one of Vaisey's guards had drug her out of bed again and she didn't plan to stop until she was sufficiently hammered.

"You're stuck, aren't you?"

"No."

"You are, too."

"I can get up whenever I feel like it, Gilbert, but it just so happens that I'm comfy right where I am." She gives a little sniff, looking away from him and back to the book she held in her left hand, the right one occupied with a half-filled wine glass.

"If you can get up, then let's see it."

"Shut up." His good mood goes right down the drain when he glances over the stone banister, spotting something on the ground that makes a sour look take over. Now, if Jas was a betting woman, she'd bet a new bunny that it was either Marian or one of Hood's company. Curious, she manages to scoot across the stone, grab ahold of the banister, and pull herself up, her upper body leaning over thin air.  _Mama's getting a new bunny_. It was Marian and her mare that had captured Gisborne's eye, the younger woman cuddling with the horse like a mother might with their child. "Check it out, Gilbert."

"Congratulations, Took, you did the impossible." Her brows furrow and she looks up at him in confusion, noticing the way he had to fight back a smile. "Not even noon yet, but you're nearly drunk." She raises her glass in a toast with a shit-eating grin, about to take a long pull from it only to have Gisborne snatch it out of her hand and down it in one go.

"Looks like I won't be the only one." She snatches her glass back and hops up onto the balustrade, using her magic to make the wine bottle float over to her and empty itself in the glass before going back to the chaise lounge. It took a lot to get Rangers drunk, certainly more than one bottle of wine, so she'd be good as long as she didn't have to run or move too fast.

"Please don't tell me you're jealous of the horse," Vaisey says with a scowl, gently petting the head of his trained falcon.

"Hey!"

"Not you, Took." Jas relaxes again and takes another drink, locking her ankles together and swinging her legs back and forth, gazing fondly down at her boobs. They may not be big, but they were perky and the white suit really made them pop.

"He's just pissy that Marian's not putting out." Vaisey's eyebrows shoot up to his non-existent hairline while Gisborne just steals her glass again, taking another drink and holding it up out of her reach. "That's cheating, Gilbert."

"Fantastic, my two lackeys are basically children." Vaisey continues to mutter under his breath as Jas maneuvers on the banister, balancing herself as she stood up and lunged for her glass, one hand holding a support beam while her other grabbed for the wine. Gisborne moved gracefully away from the ledge, and she took a moment to regain her balance completely before jumping at him, her legs and arms wrapped securely around him as he hunched his back under her unexpected weight.

"Gimme the booze!"

"No, I've earned it," Gisborne calls back, still keeping the wine out of her reach while the fingers of his left hand curled under one of her thighs to keep her from falling. The feeling of such intimate contact had her heart beating a faster rhythm, her breaths cold against the nape of his neck. "Took…." Embarrassed at the reaction and thinking herself weak for it, she allows herself to drop, landing on the edge of the chaise lounge and falling further to the ground when the straw and metal seat tips under her weight.

"Seriously? That's the first bit of alcohol I've had in a month!"

"I'm sure you can go without it for a few more hours." His tone was still light and teasing, blue eyes lit up with something Jas wasn't too sure of. The last time a guy had given her that look, she'd ended up pregnant; that had been a human as well and she couldn't afford another slip-up.

"I can't, actually." She stands again, pulling on the blue dress she'd worn to the castle, tying the sash around her waist to conceal her bikini, and sliding her feet into a pair of sandals before striding past Gisborne to the door. "I'll be in the tavern if y'all need anything," she calls over her shoulder, fixing her hat as she went.

* * *

Gisborne found Took easily in the tavern, the woman preferring the farthest corner in the back of the smoky room, just watching the other patrons with her back against the wall. She seemed to get paranoid when she was drinking, brown eyes never resting on one thing or person for long before they were moving again. "I need your help," he states as he takes up the seat across from her.

"With what?" Her words weren't slurred and she looked completely alert despite how long she's been drinking, but he could see her struggling to keep her eyes open. Another thing he'd noticed soon after she'd joined him in Locksley, she grew tired after drinking mead.

"With Marian; Vaisey says she needs to know I can provide for her and our offspring." He winces when one of Took's brows quirk up, quickly rephrasing. "I mean, our children." The left brow joins the right one near her hairline and he drops his head down on his folded arms, letting out a long groan. He had no clue how to woo a woman like Marian; he could barely talk to her. How could he expect to interact with her everyday once they're married?

"First off, don't listen to Vaisey even if he told you to stop, drop, and roll." He can hear her moving and the squeal of wood on wood before he felt her hand on his back. He raises his head just enough to see her sitting next to him now and giving him a sympathetic smile. "Second off, we already know ol' Mary ain't the type to accept little gifts from you just because she feels like you're trying to buy her. And thirdly- Hey, lady, I want another of those mugs of mead."

Took nods confidently as the tavern wench scurries off in the direction of the kitchen, the Ranger shifting in her seat until her forehead was resting on his shoulder with her arm still around him. He waits a moment more before nudging her as well as he can, making her straighten back up.

"What's the third thing I should know?"

"Do what?"

"You said thirdly and then you ordered more mead." Her face went blank for a second as she thought back to a minute ago and then a grin broke out and brightened her features. "You've forgotten, haven't you?"

"Little bit." She holds her thumb and forefinger close together, still grinning. He loves that grin, the way her entire face seemed to glow; it reminded him of moonlight, of how mysterious it could be at times yet beautiful all the same. "What's up with you and the bride-to-be?"

"A small disagreement over how Lambert was treated, nothing more."

"We got him away alive, so what more did she want?"

"Apparently for him to escape without broken legs." She scoffs and shakes her head, ripping her new mug out of the poor girl's fingers the second she appeared, the wench running back the way she came to safer prospects. Took alone put people around here on edge, but when it was Took  _and_ Gisborne, people tended to avoid them at all costs.

"I healed the damn things, he was walking fine, and I even gave him an entire purse full of money!" He frowns and motions for her to lower her voice, Took complying and slouching in her seat with her feet on the table near his arms. He sets up completely poking at her legs and smiling when she wiggles to get away. They're the smoothest legs he's ever seen, only the faintest stubble covering the taut brown skin. Did she get such good results from a straight razor or was it some kind of magic? "Unscented lotion."

"What," he laughs, looking back to her. There was amusement in her gaze, her entire frame relaxed for the first time since they met at the Portal.

"You're supposed to put unscented lotion on your legs after you shave them to keep them moisturized and smooth." She lifts one leg so that it's at his eye level, that intoxicating scent of hers making him let out a shaky exhale. He wanted to bury his face in her curls, to cover himself in that scent because it constantly drew him to her. It was like nothing he's ever encountered before, it made him feel drunk and able to do anything; it was better than almost everything he's had.

"Jas…." He hears the guttural quality of his voice, but the sound that followed is what really caught him; she let out a small gasp, barely heard over the noise of the tavern, but it bounced around inside his skull and sent a near violent shiver down his spine. "Jasmine."

He's never wanted a woman more in his entire life.


	34. Emotional Flowers

Gisborne found the woman outside, the sun shining down on her and her hands speckled with dirt. He paused mid-step, just taking in the graceful curve of her neck, the fluttering of dark lashes as she examined the pale pink flowers she had so carefully tended to over the past few weeks, fingertips light as they brush against the fringed edges of the petals. The sunlight brought out the lighter shades of brown in her hair, like amber spirals in the mass of corkscrew curls.

He’s only caught glimpses of her as she worked, but now he saw how intense her gaze was and how relaxed she seemed, still humming that old song that even he had memorized by now.

“ _My daddy once told me what a man ought to be_ ,” she sang quietly, voice floating across the space between them and to his ears, caressing him and soothing him,”  _there’s much more to life than the things we can see and the godliest mortal you ever will know is the one with the dream of El Dorado_ ….”

As per the norm, she was dressed in strange clothes that would cause most women to blush with shame, but she showed her body off with pride. The shirt scarcely made it to her ribs while her trousers didn’t even touch her knees, both dark red in color with white flowers standing out on the fabric, her shirt—basically a vest for all he could tell—had white ties down the front to keep her chest covered, but her stomach stayed bare.

She had a nice stomach he supposed, a little soft, but with some defined muscle that proved she worked hard to keep her body like it is; her legs are the same, all smooth and well-developed with the white and tan shoes on her feet helping to show how well they looked. Still, all that aside, his favorite of her features were her eyes; they were expressive even when she tried so hard to stay otherwise, they showed her fierce rages when those children were butchered, her endless sorrow when she told him of the murder of her son, and absolute delight when he smiles at her.

But he was supposed to be in love with another woman, he was going to marry her as soon as the King returned to England, and so he couldn’t be thinking of the Ranger in such a way. It was too intimate for them and he would only hurt himself should he allow himself to develop feelings for Took. So, instead of admitting that her eyes reminded him of the very soil she was shifting carefully around her flowers, Gisborne crossed the remaining feet and leaned his shoulder against the wall.

“What on earth are you wearing?”

“Clothes the last time I checked, Gilly,” she responds immediately, not even having to stop to think about it. Marian rarely did that around him, she seemed to consider every word that came out of her mouth unless she was angry or upset about something. “Why? You want to try them on or something?”

“Don’t quite think they’d fit me.”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe if you sucked in your gut.” He allows a smile at that, the smile only widening when she finally looks up at him with that mischief dancing in her eyes. “What brings you out here?”

“I thought I’d come and see what’s kept you occupied for so long. I have to admit that I never took you as the type to play with flowers.” She tilts her head to the side, fingers digging deeper into the soft earth, coming out, and starting over as she thought that over. She was often fidgeting when she was thinking, tugging on her clothing or curling a lock of hair around her finger, never completely still.

“My son liked to watch flowers grow,” she finally says after a moment, eyes closing and a soft smile gracing her lips as though she were imagining what the child would say if he were beside her. “Carnations were his favorite and we would often have vases of them all over the cottage, overfilled and just so bright.”

“Would he like these?” Her eyes stay closed and her smile remains, but she reaches out a hand and takes his, tugging until he was kneeling beside her near the small garden.

“He would sit beside me every morning and help me water them, he had his own little watering can with a sunflower painted on the side of it. At night, when he’d had a bad dream, I would take him outside to our flowerbed and just sit with him in the moonlight, watching him as he touched the petals and I sang his lullaby.”

“What was it?”

“I’m sure you can take a guess.” He could and it would explain her attachment to that particular song, the one she sang when overwhelmed. “Garen’s somewhere better now.”

“How can you be sure?” Gisborne never had been the biggest believer in Heaven or anything that went along with it and so he often wondered where his mother and father had ended up after the fire. Were they looking down on him like the reverend often preached? Would they be proud of their only son or scorn him for his actions?

“Because he was burned.”

“What?” That snapped his attention back to her and he was surprised at how close she seemed to be so suddenly, her face close enough that he could smell her breath, minty and cool against his lips. “Burned?”

“Yes, those decided innocent by our master are burned so that their soul is free to choose a new vessel. After the execution, Lucifer deemed Garen fit for reincarnation as a human and so I put together my son’s pyre and watched as he turned to ash.” It stunned Gisborne into silence, his own experience with fire a terrifying reminder not to trust anyone while hers seemed to be freeing. “When burned, the soul is released into the air, able to fly away from the bonds of humanity and the like until it decides to be reborn.”

“And those buried?”

“Their souls are trapped in their coffin or crypt until your God comes back to earth and Lucifer raises his army.” Her voice held a dreamy quality, soft and sweet to his ears and making him wish she’d never stop talking. “I will see to it that Dash is buried deep under the earth and I will plant Carnations on his grave as a reminder of what he did to an innocent child just because the master approved of it.” In that moment, Gisborne wanted nothing more than to help her get her revenge.

“And I will help you do it if it’s my last action on this earth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's outfit was made by the always amazing thewhoreofcookies over on Polyvore! Thank you so much, you really get Jas's fashion sense and you're an amazing friend <3


	35. Dreamers in Locksley

_It was close to midnight when Jas heard the muffed crying from down the hall and she was out of her bed before she even realized what was happening, her first instinct to protect her baby. Bad things happened to children when their parents weren’t around and she’d be damned if something happened to her son. Not even stopping to pull on some pajama bottoms, Jas stumbles down the darkened hallway in just a large tee and panties._

_Her heart beating at a rapid pace, she slings the bedroom door open, taken aback at the sight that greeted her. There were no bright yellow walls with Winnie the Pooh and Piglet pictures, no racecar bed with Lightning McQueen stickers, no little pebbles from the garden or Carnations dotting the windowsill._

_This was a little girl’s room with a mural of a princess’s castle on the wall beside a pale lilac crib, small dolls scattered across the room, and a rocking chair beside the window. Gisborne sat there, gently rocking and smiling up at Jas’s frazzled look; there was a small bundle in his arms, wrapped in a soft blanket._

_“I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a faint blush,” I tried to get the little one quieted down before you woke up.”_

_“No,” Jas shakes her head, making her way over to him to peer down at the child,” it’s… I’m fine.” The infant Gisborne held so tenderly didn’t have Garen’s curls or hazel eyes, it didn’t have the same chubby cheeks or grasping fingers. Just like the room had changed, so had the child and she was left staring dumbfounded at a little girl with a tuft of brown hair and pale cheeks flushed with pink. “Who is this? Where is my baby?”_

_“Jas?” Gisborne stands and carefully lays the child back in the unfamiliar crib before moving over to the Ranger, cupping her face with his hands. They were calloused after years of working yet gentle as he brought her close to him. “What are you talking about?”_

_“That’s not my baby. Where is he? Where’s my Garen?” She felt a panic attack coming on, her throat feeling swollen as she struggled to catch her breaths. “This isn’t right.”_

_“Sweetheart, it’s always been like this.” She shakes her head, shoving him away from her and pulling at her curls. This isn’t the way things should be, this isn’t her cottage._ Where’s my son? _He had to be close, he hates being away from her for a long time._

_“Guy, stop this—”_

_“Who’s Guy?” She freezes and spins to look at him, taking in his bright blue eyes as he stared down at her in confusion. “Last time I checked, my name was Gavin.” But that couldn’t be right, he looked exactly like Gisborne; he was a perfect replica from the top of his head down to his toes._

_The earth beneath her feet seemed to shudder and she was tossed backwards against a chest of drawers, her world shattering into a thousand pieces that reformed into a new setting, leaving Jas bewildered as she stared around her at the park._

_It was daylight here, early afternoon before it got too hot. A quick look around confirmed that she was at the small park in Chandler, a blanket spread out beneath her and keeping her from touching the grass._

_“Wendy, don’t go too far!” Her head snaps to the left, finding Gisborne beside her, his elbows supporting him and his long legs stretched out. He looked like a lazy house cat, all sprawled limbs and easy smiles. The sunlight brought out blue highlights in his dark hair and his pale skin was lightly tanned._

_“I won’t, Papa,” a high-pitched voice calls in response, Jas finding a small girl with dark curls running towards the swings. Lost in her thoughts about what the hell had just happened, Jas jumps when she feels a hand on her hip, pressing her further against the blanket. She meant to fight back, but that instinct was quieted when she noticed it was Gisborne leaning over her, tracing meaningless patterns along her right side._

_“I’ve been thinking.”_

_“Always a scary thought,” she quips without thinking, melting against the warmth of his fingers. He laughs at her, the genuine one she didn’t hear very often that made her stomach tie itself into knots. “About what?”_

_“About buying a bigger shop so you can get more flowers.” How the hell did he know that she’s wanted to run a flower shop since she was six? She’s never told anyone that, not even her family. “After all, I know how hard it is to keep things organized in the one we have now and Mister Richards offered a good deal for his.”_

_“What on earth is going on?” His brows furrow as he studies Jas’s face, able to pick out the nerves she tried to suppress and her fear. “Am I dreaming?”_

_“If this is a dream, then I never want to wake up,” he whispers, lips brushing hers before claiming them in a soft kiss. Jas didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, putting everything she had into it and memorizing how soft and full his lips felt against hers, how he tasted like strawberries._

* * *

_Gisborne looked around him in slight confusion at the unfamiliar setting; several yards of grass with metal contraptions that children were playing on. The only thing that kept him from panicking was the woman lying next to him on the blanket, Took watching a little girl swinging back and forth on something made of black material and chains._

_The Ranger looked beautiful under the sunlight, her dress yellow and stopping just shy of her calves, bright yellow and made of something that felt soft under his fingertips. He was lying on his side next to her, head supported by his right hand while the other rested on Took's right hip._

_"What's wrong, Gavin," she asks, turning her gaze to him._

_"Who?" He didn't know anyone with that name and he wondered if she'd finally lost her mind or if she'd just decided to start calling him Gavin for the hell of it. "Where are we?"_

_"The park." She gives him a long look, her hand covering his and her thumb running over the pulse point in his wrist. "It was your idea to come here, remember?" No, he didn't even remember getting out of bed or changing into strange clothing; a black tunic that tightly clung to his biceps and the trousers Took referred to as jeans. "Here, drink some water."_

_"I don't—” But she'd already sat up and had a clear bottle in her hand, pressing it against his lips until he gave in and felt the cold water fill his mouth and slide down his throat. "What's going on, Took?" Her head tilts forward to look at him better and her lips part._

_"Wow, it's been a long time since you addressed me by my maiden name." That only served to confuse him further since he's only ever used her given name twice and that was only the day before. What was going on here? "Am I in trouble for taking Mister Richards up on that deal? It was your idea to buy a bigger shop, so—”_

_"Just stop rambling for a moment and tell me where the hell I am." He hadn't meant for the words to come out so harshly and he instantly regretted them when her lips pressed into a thin line. "I- I'm sorry, Took, but I have no idea what's going on or how I got to be here."_

_"It's alright, you're probably just a little dehydrated. I'll go and get Wendy and you just put our stuff in the car."_ What the hell is a car? _He didn’t get the chance to ask as Jas got to her feet and jogged to one of the large devices not too far from them, picking up a little girl with loose curls and a cheery grin. The child was running his way the second her feet hit the ground, barreling into him and wrapping her little arms about his neck in a hug. “Easy, your Papa doesn’t feel good.”_

_“Sorry, Papa,” the little girl mumbles, settling in his lap when he sits up. It was if she’d done this numerous times, completely comfortable with leaning against him, almost as if she were actually his child._

_“Come on, Gavin, we’ll just spend the rest of the day at home.”_

Gisborne woke with a start, heart thumping in his chest as he looked around. He almost expected to find himself still in that park with the child that wasn’t his and the Ranger he wasn’t entirely sure of, but he was in his chambers in Locksley. 

 _Easy, Guy, can’t be losing your sanity just yet_. He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair as he rested his back against the headboard. It was just a strange dream that meant nothing except he’s been spending too much time around Took and not Marian lately. That was all, a stupid dream.

And down the hall, Jasmine Took was convincing herself of the same thing.


	36. Promises to Poison

Jas woke with a start, shooting up in bed and sending her cat scrambling to dig her claws into the blankets. “Sorry, Bassy,” she breathes, gently placing the cat back on the bed, scratching her behind her pointed ears, but not even the comforting purr could calm her. Jas’s dreams had been vivid, too vivid for that to have been all they were.

The last time she’d experienced that, it had been about her mother’s execution.

Shaking her head, she gets out of bed and pulls on a spaghetti strap shirt and a skirt before leaving her room and descending the stairs. The servants were hurrying to get breakfast ready and the house in order, a few nodding at her in passing as she enters the living room. There was a fire already started, the wood popping and sparks skittering across the wooden floor whenever the logs shift.

Normally she would find Gisborne already here and brooding in his chair or pacing the room with his hands clasped behind his back. He was a predictable man, one of habit, and she took comfort at the familiar routine, but he wasn’t here now. Was he still sleeping this late in the morning? She knew it was barely seven-thirty, but he was normally awake by six.

“Where is your master,” she asks, catching at a servant before the boy could hurry past.

“Left at dawn, Miss,” he answers, eyes downcast,” Sheriff’s orders.”

“And why wasn’t I woken to accompany him?”

“The Sheriff’s guest, the Saracen, was with him and Sir Guy said he didn’t feel comfortable with the other man around you. Honestly, Miss, I think he was just jealous.” Jas tenses and she captures the boy’s chin in her hand, turning his head up so she could look into his green eyes. They were wide and honest, a child’s eyes through and through.

“Why would you think that, little one?” She kept her voice soft, releasing his arm so she could brush a few strands of his hair off his forehead. It was short and soft under her hand, covering his ears and the color of wheat.

“’Cause he likes you a lot, like more than a companion.” He grins up at her, unafraid of what she could do to him, probably unaware that she wasn’t human like he was. Children were so trusting and full of innocence, the one creatures that Jas could usually count on to show kindness. “And you like him too, don’t you?” She offers a smile, stepping away from him, but not answering.

“Run along and get your chores done.”

“Yes, Miss Jasmine.” All the children that worked at Locksley called her that despite Gisborne’s warnings not to, they didn’t fear him as much as they once did after Jas told him to leave the children alone or find a way to remove his boot from his esophagus. Once she was alone again, she moves to her chair and curls up in it, resting her chin on her knees while her arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

“Why would Vaisey allow his prisoner to roam the countryside?” It didn’t make a lick of sense to her, but Vaisey was always plotting and she’d leave him to that. She sits in her chair for the next thirty minutes, listening to the hustle and bustle, the soft chatter, and the sounds of plates being laid out on the table in preparation of the small breakfast. It was soothing to her, making her thoughts slow down so she could take everything in.

She hasn’t been able to do this since her family moved to Oklahoma from Hell, there was no constant noise in the country apart from what nature made. Sure, there was the occasional lawn mower in the summer months and a few assholes that decide to ride their horses down the streets in town, but no constant talking or weapons training.

She missed hearing the ringing of swords as the Royal Guards trained in the courtyard every morning, the smell of fresh cinnamon bread from the stand set up just below her balcony; the baker would usually laugh when she levitated a loaf of it up to the marble railing, her parents dropping off a ten-dollar bill as they passed by an hour later to attend to their duties.

Her mother had been Lucifer’s personal assistant, the one person he trusted never to betray him; her father was on the Council, in charge of keeping Hell running smoothly. Jas and her brothers had free reign in the Palace so long as they didn’t interrupt the meetings or shove each other into Hellfire, and she often hid under Lucifer’s thrown when Dash was looking to take his anger out on someone.

She’d called her master ‘Uncle’ when she was small and he would only pat her on the head and promise her the world if she remained loyal to him and no one else. It wasn’t until she was twelve and showed her mother’s decapitated body as it was lowered into the ground for defending a blue-haired angel boy that she realized he would give her only pain and eternal damnation if she failed him in any way.

He was her ancestor, but he held no pity for anyone who he deemed unworthy or broken. He’d seen weakness in her only son, saw only the human blood that tainted Garen’s heritage, and ordered the execution. He’d explicitly ordered that Jas bear witness to the horror and let her kill the men that held her down, but the murderer was sealed away in Russia to keep her from finding a way around the Law.

And yet, no matter what, she still kept remembering the kind man that held her in his arms while delivering rousing speeches to his masses, the man that had pressed a freezing kiss against her forehead when she excelled in torture, and healed all of her wounds with only a drop of his golden blood. He was beautiful, the very image of an angel that God’s followers picture, but his heart was as cold as the realm he rules over.

His golden hair fell around his ears like a halo and she remembered being envious of it, feeling her own dark locks while watching him in complete awe. Older than the earth under her feet, he carried himself with all the grace of the world, commanding Reapers and Messengers with only a dark look, ordering death and destruction with a nod. He was all-powerful, he was every bit the fallen angel.

He'd taught her to play the piano, slapping her small hands with a ruler until they were raw and she’d mastered Hickory Dickory Dock. He hadn’t always been the cold figure around her, he’d always been kinder to her than the adults he surrounded himself with. He hadn’t seen anything in her, she hadn’t been special, but she had been willing to learn and her mind was easy to mold.

“You alright, Took?” She turns her gaze from the fire and finds Gisborne standing in the doorway, hair mussed from a horse ride and his leather gloves held in one hand. He looked frustrated and in need of something to take him mind of problems; she felt the urge to kiss his forehead and tell him everything would be alright in the end.

“Fine,” she smiles instead,” what’s up?”

Lucifer had promised her the world, but she loved her son more and Lucifer’s promise turned to poison. She wouldn’t be weak again, she’d give up her soul if that means Gisborne would get the chance of a long life.


	37. Pure Mindless Vandalism

" _That's_  the man you didn't trust around me," Jas whispers in disbelief as she finally spots the Prince, not seeing anything special about him beyond the fact that he wore too much eyeliner. Poor guy looks like a damn raccoon or one of those girls in middle school that went through the goth phase.

"What?" Gisborne turns his gaze to her in confusion, then realization dawns and he rolls his eyes. "That damn boy got my words mixed up again. I said I didn't trust  _you_  around the  _Prince_. I know how you get around the nobility and I didn't want you to snap the man's neck if he said something you didn't agree with."

"Next time, you should just leave a note behind."

"I'm beginning to think that's a good idea." She might be able to conjure a Post-It note, surely something so small wouldn't mess up along the way. Then again, she'd tried conjuring a grilled cheese and it showed up with a mouse attached; the mouse was named Simon and it lived in the garden now, though Gisborne had no knowledge of that fact.

"Enough excuses," Malik snaps after Vaisey said something, forcing Jas and Gisborne to tune back into the argument at hand. He really wasn't terrible looking, his brown hair brushing his shirt collar in thick waves, he wasn't scrawny nor particularly buff, and he was taller than Jas. "We will start the peace negotiations tonight before more innocent people are cut down! I have heard aspersions cast on your character, Sheriff, and if you do not comply immediately, I will travel to London by myself."

"I'd love to see you travel after I break your ankles," Jas says casually.

"May I present to you Jasmine Took," Vaisey introduces, gesturing in her direction," a Ranger that takes pride in her job. In fact, not too long ago she was dispatching of another man who thought he could stand up to me. If you don't take a seat and stop your yammering, then I'll allow her to show you first-hand what she did to poor Lambert."

"Look how red his face is now."

"How dare you," he snarls, not backing down from the challenge.

"Vaisey will do whatever he likes." Jas moves forward until she's in the man's personal space, her smile unsettling as she meets his gaze. "Do you know why? Because I don't fail when it comes to my tasks. If he says jump, you ask 'how high' because I'll shatter the bones of your fingers if you don't. Now, will you be seated or will I have to make you, Malik?" She turns her gaze to a nearby soldier, her smile turning pleasant. "Take our sweet Prince to the dungeons and I'll sort him out later on."

She walks out with her head held high, bringing her freshly picked Carnation up to breathe in its sweet scent. It was familiar to her, it meant home, and she needed it more than ever in such a high stress situation. "Well done in there, Took. It seems you aren't a complete waste."

"That was almost a compliment," Gisborne shrugs as the Sheriff walks off, Jas and Gisborne stopping at the stairs. "Better than usual."

"Yeah," Jas said," it'll have to do. What else do we have going on today?" Gisborne takes a moment to think over that, obviously having trouble sorting everything out that was on his plate.  _Heavy are the shoulders that hold an asshole like Vaisey_.

"Ah, I think the ransom should arrive sometime this afternoon or early evening. If all goes well, then we should be back in Locksley by nightfall, enjoying our wine and trying not to fail at whatever game you think up." That was a new tradition in Locksley Manor, both would get drunk and partake in childish games like Twister or Hide and Seek. Unfortunately, they could never quite remember how said games turned out and they were still confused about how Gisborne ended up with a few strands of pink hair.

"Awesome."

"I like to think so."

* * *

Jas had felt uneasy all afternoon after receiving word from a spy in the woods that the ransom was drawing nearer to the castle, the Saracen guards mostly women dressed in strange clothing that allowed easy movement. Likewise, Jas had quickly changed into a short skirt that would give her legs an easier access to movement, and a white crop top that just felt comfortable against her skin. Against Gisborne's wishes, she'd decided to forgo shoes, though that was mainly because she hated shoes in general.

"Are we sure we're getting an actual ransom from these people," Jas asks, eyeing the portcullis. "I doubt Saladin would risk any of his money to rescue one wayward nephew."

"These people would do anything for family," Vaisey says distractedly," it's what makes them vulnerable." If he actually believed that, then he didn't have the brains God gave monkeys. Soon after Vaisey spoke, four women entered the courtyard, each holding one end of an elaborate stick that supported a cushion and a large box; they followed a Saracen man that dressed similarly to Malik, but Jas was more concerned about the fact that the women weren't wearing dresses.

Jas hangs behind as Vaisey and Gisborne go down the stairs to greet the new arrivals. Something is seriously wrong and you'd have to be a complete dipstick not to see that. For one thing, she's never met a Saracen woman that wasn't covered from head-to-toe aside from Djaq; for another, there's an air about the women that means business. It was just one of those things fellow badasses could sense about each other, the trained eye able to see the faint tensing of muscles and the hours of training that created such stiff-backed posturing under a heavy weight.

Arabic hit team.

 _Welp, I can check this off my bucket list_.

"A sample of the treasure, My Lord," the stranger offers, his accent thick as he brings out a small leather purse. Jas tenses slightly, an action noticed by the four women, which Jas noticed in return. Oh yes, they'd been well-trained, but they'd find out soon enough that it takes more than fucking assassins to kill a Ranger.

"How about we take the party inside," Jas suggests," to keep prying eyes from seeing such an exchange." Inside one of the rooms of the castle would make fighting a little more difficult, but it would allow her to pick the assassins off one by one. Sure, she'd take more than one wound herself, but she would heal eventually and any missing limbs would grow back after a month or so. She should know, Flynn had accidentally cut off an entire hand when he first started practicing with a machete. "We could have their Prince summoned to show how hospitable we've been to him."

"What," Vaisey frowns, straightening up from fiddling with the chest. "Oh, yes. Yes, let's do that." He'd seen the way her gaze lingered on the women, knew that the way her lips pursed just the slightest meant that something was about to go down. "Come along, then. All weapons outside and we'll gather in my chambers." It was close combat in there, perhaps better than any of the larger rooms so that the women couldn't escape.

 _But neither can Gisborne_.

The two of them lock gazes, a familiar practice after months of working together, and Gisborne could easily spot the worry she felt. He takes the other man's curved blade, holding it carefully in his hands and he came to Jas's side, both of them leading the way.

"What is it," he asks, lips barely moving and his voice only heard by her sensitive ears.

"We're about to see how the Saracen version of Carmine Falcone treats his enemies." She knew Gisborne wouldn't get the reference, but her serious tone tipped him off that it wasn't any laughing matter. The rest of the walk to Vaisey’s sitting room was in silence, the only sounds coming from the shoes as they hit the floor. The four Saracen women stand a few feet apart in groups of two on separate sides of the room, shoulders squared and eyes focused dead ahead.

“No,” Malik gasps when he’s brought in, spotting the women and recognizing them from his country. Jas could see the fear in his eyes and the way he seemed to struggle not to run back to the dungeons. That alone told her everything she needed to know, that these women would make the Prince beg for an hour of torture from Jas rather than five minutes with them.

“Take him to the Great Hall,” Vaisey instructs the two guards that had dragged the Prince inside. Jas stands on Vaisey’s right, one hand resting on her pocket knife and the other on the back of Vaisey’s chair. Just as she knew the women were dangerous, they knew she was too; predators spotting each other and trying to decide whether or not to strike and declare the winner Alpha. “You can have your Prince back once I’ve checked the ransom.”

“Then I am left with no choice,” the man observes with a calculating smile,” here is your key.” It’s a simple thing of brass, basically just a cylinder with an oval on the top of it, the center hollow. It’s set on the table next to the chest and Jas’s bad feeling increases tenfold. Whatever’s about to happen, it’s going to start with the contents of that chest.

 _Death will come on swift wings to whomsoever opens this chest_. She half-expected Imhotep to show up and start sucking the life from everyone in the room to really drive the point home that this was a bad idea.

“Wait,” she calls out as Gisborne reaches the table, his hand hovering over the key,” let one of our lovely guests open it first.” All eyes were on Jas as she moves to stand next to her companion, her brows raised the tiniest bit. “Come now, don’t be shy.”

“Enough of this,” Vaisey says, getting to his feet and stomping over.

“Vaisey, you touch that key and I’ll break your damn wrist.” Her gaze shifts from one woman to the other, spotting the short swords they kept hidden under the long, silk material of their vests. “You four know what I am and what my kind are capable of,” she states in her authoritative tone that she uses on new recruits,” now let’s see if Saladin sent the right people to finish us off.”

The women moved with an almost inhuman grace, taking out soldiers with such ease that Jas almost thought them Rangers until she remembered that they bore no silver cuff.  One comes her way, swords spinning and flashing in the fading sunlight. Her pocket knife would be no help against them, so she settled for more defensive maneuvers until she was able to get her hands on a weapon.

"Why can't these people just fight like normal," she grumbles, bending backwards like she'd do in a game of Limbo, narrowly avoiding a sword removing her nose. She happened to like her nose, it was cute and she'd be damned if she let some assassin take it away from her. She kicks out, relying on her balance and magic to keep her from toppling over, making the assassin stumble when Jas’s bare foot collides with her thigh.

“Took,” Gisborne cries out from somewhere on her left. Another assassin joined the first before Jas could straighten back up, and in her panic she cries out the first thing she could think of in Gisborne’s general direction.

“Save me, Barry!”


	38. Attack of the Killer Saracens

Gisborne reacted in record time, wrapping an arm about Jas’s waist and yanking her away from the swords just before they came down. Had he not been so fast, Jas may have been cut in two. “Hurry,” he shouts, forcing her to keep pace with him as he sprints out of the room, Jas pulling the doors shut behind them.

“Thanks,” Jas says once they were a good few feet away from Vaisey’s chambers. Gisborne doesn’t say anything, just shifting his grip to her hand and holding it tightly. As they rounded the corner, they were forced to stop because of a familiar asshole, a dead body, and a sniveling Vaisey.

“About time you lot showed up!”

“We wouldn’t have had to if you three hadn’t kidnapped a Saracen Prince,” Hood shoots back. The sound of ululating makes all of their heads snap in the direction Jas and Gisborne had just come from, Gisborne tightening his grip once more. “The hall, now!” It wasn’t a long run to the Great Hall of the castle, barely more than seventeen feet, and there were a few guards inside that they could use as human shields if things came to that.

“Guard the doors,” Jas commands, taking control for the moment,” the only reason anyone gets in here is because you’re already dead!” The guards didn’t move from their spots, sharing looks and a few shrugs. “Let me rephrase that, if you don’t guard that door with your lives, then I will cut you open from groin to gullet and strangle you with your own intestines!” That got them moving faster than Jas had ever seen, practically shoving everyone out of the way as they sprinted up the stairs to the doors.

“What was that?”

“Me releasing my inner Candyman.” Jas shrugs and slides down the railing, landing gracefully at the bottom of the stairs. “Malik, get your cowardly ass up and help us fight.” The Prince doesn’t even bother to meet her gaze, kneeling on the floor and staring down at his hands.

“Fools don’t deserve to be rescued,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I’m not rescuing you, I’m just adding to the able bodies in the room to put between me and those mad women!” She grabs a handful of his shirt and yanks him to his feet, positioning him to be in the middle of the group. “The least you can do is look like you know what you’re doing.”

While the Prince struck up a conversation with Hood, Jas looks around the hall for anything she can use as a feasible weapon. Unfortunately for her, Vaisey’s decorations didn’t include crossed swords or spears, only chairs that weighed nearly as much as herself. Screaming grew closer, the sounds of guards being cut down doing nothing for Jas’s nerves.

“Here,” Gisborne offers, holding out his sword.

“That’s the only weapon you have,” she protests, shaking her head. “I won’t leave you defenseless.”

“I won’t be defenseless, I have my dagger and I have you.” They share a long gaze for a moment, then Jas snatches his dagger and twirls it between her fingers like she’d seen him do with his sword, getting used to the balance of it and its weight.

“This will do just fine.” He scowls, but doesn’t have a chance to respond as everything goes silent. “They’re going to toy with us, those pricks.”

“Much, Djaq, John,” Hood instructs, pointing to the opposite wall under the balcony,” over there; Gisborne, you stay where you’re at, but I want Took on the opposite side.” Jas nods and moves to stand on Robin’s other side. “Allan, Vaisey, you’re with me.”

“Vaisey’s no use, so I’ll help you out.”

“Can I trust you?”

“I’m a Ranger, of course you can’t trust me.”

“Know any encouraging words that’ll get us ready for what’s about to happen?” Normally Jas would just shake her head and let someone else do the talking, but she’d been binge watching Game of Thrones before she came here and one speech really stuck out in her mind.

“Don’t fight for your Sheriff,” Jas calls out, channeling her inner Tyrion,” don’t fight for his castle, don’t fight for honor, don’t fight for glory, don’t fight for riches because you won’t get any. This is your city those Saracens mean to sack; your doors they’re ramming. If they get in, it will be your houses they burn, your gold they steal, your friends they will slaughter. Those are brave women knocking at our door. Let’s go kill them!”

Not a second later, the doors slam open and the Saracens walk out onto the wooden balcony, shedding everything until they had on the tightly fit blue tops and trousers, matching fingerless gloves that stopped at their elbows, turbans, and their short swords. They brandish their swords expertly, coming down the stairs one by one and picking the ululating back up to set everyone on edge.

The others come out of hiding and Little John bangs his staff against the floor, gaining the women’s attention. The four women form a circle, always moving so that three of them were always facing an opponent, swords whistling as they’re twirled through the air.

“Now,” Hood commands and the brawl begins. Jas doesn’t waste time trying to shield herself from a blade, just throwing Gisborne’s dagger and managing to hit one of the women in the side. Instead of dropping like Jas had hoped, she pulls the dagger free and sends it flying back in Jas’s direction.

“Surprise,” Jas grins, using her magic to slow the knife down so that she could catch it without a problem. The woman doesn’t show even a hint of fear, her training not allowing that even if she did actually feel it. “You’re the one that tried to take my nose off earlier and I want you to know that I’ll take your head for that.” The woman lunges forward without a word, bringing one sword down towards Jas’s head while swiping the other at Jas’s middle.

Grunting, Jas blocks the second sword with the dagger and catches the woman’s wrist, tightening her hold until the other woman’s forced to release the sword or have her wrist snapped in two. With the adrenaline that came from fighting, Jas didn’t even flinch before head-butting the woman, driving her backwards half a step and then plunging the dagger through her neck. Jas isn’t the merciful type and she always kept her promises, telekinesis allowing her to take up the fallen sword and behead its owner with just two swings.

The Ranger lets out a sharp gasp when she feels a blade plunge through her abdomen, staring down at the protruding blade until it’s removed and she could face the owner. It was another of the Saracen women and this time Jas could see the faintest amount of shock through the uncaring mask. Breaths coming out in gasps, Jas drives her stolen sword through this woman’s middle, returning the favor but unable to watch as the life drains away.

She was just turning to try and find another target when she heard the ululating again, this time from the bare-chested man standing on the railing of the balcony, looking crazed as he glared down at the remaining Saracen women. He held two short swords of his own and didn’t hesitate to do a front flip off the banister, landing on his feet without even a stumble.

Jas had no clue who this guy was or how he even knew they needed backup, but she wasn’t going to give this gift horse a dental exam either. The man captured the women’s attention, handling his swords with the same practice as the Saracens, dark blue tattoos decorating his torso just as they did the women’s.

“Please tell me we don’t have to fight him too,” Jas whines, seating herself on the table and covering her wound with her hand. Hood moves over to her, helping by applying pressure to her back where the sword had entered her.

“He’s on our side,” Hood assures. “You’re really making a habit out of getting stabbed.”

“In my defense, the first time was accidental.” She winces as the pain begins to register, growing lightheaded as more of her blood seeps through her fingers. Falling back on all the training she’d received, Jas takes stock of what was happening to her own body. Judging by the fact that the lightheadedness eased when she laid back on the table and that her respiratory rate was in normal range, she’d say she’s probably only lost half a liter of blood.

“Get Malik out!” Little John takes on the chore, ushering the Prince out of the room as they others began to fight again. Hood and Gisborne stay close to Jas, both of them attacking the same woman while the new man continued with the only one left. Jas closes her eyes to steady herself, gritting her teeth as she sat up and hopped off the table, taking up the dagger and burying it in the woman’s temple.

“Are you insane,” Gisborne snaps, catching Jas as her legs gave out. “Stop trying to get yourself killed!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Jas says in response, eyes half-lidded as he lays her back on the table. “’Tis but a scratch.” He scoffs, removing his coat and tunic, tearing his shirt into strips and then tying them around Jas’s abdomen to staunch the flow of blood. “How’d you like the speech?”

“It wasn’t bad, all things considered.”

“Yeah, it sounded way cooler when Peter Dinklage said it.” She focuses on his face as the last of the Saracens is taken down, memorizing the way his brows drew together when he was worried, the little crease forming between them as he concentrated, and the way he mumbled a prayed under his breath without even realizing he was doing it. “Thanks for letting me borrow your dagger.”

“You can use it anytime, but you have to make me a promise.” He looks up from his work and brushed some of her hair off her face, leaving a streak of her silver blood across her cheek. “No more getting stabbed.”

“I’ll do my best, but I have to admit that it was worth it to see those abs of yours.”


	39. Late Night Conversations

"What are you doing outside this late?" Took looks up at him with a tiny smile and a shrug, patting the spot next to her on the blanket. It had to be three in the morning and Gisborne had been worried when she wasn't in her bed when he checked on her, but his worry died away when he'd spotted her beside the small pond.

"I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd come out here and enjoy the quiet." He could understand that, the need for peace after a day full of wondering if the people you've grown close to would still be alive at the end of it. All that aside, he knew there was another reason why she wasn't resting: Nightmares. She had them every night, forced to watch her son executed over and over until she woke a sobbing mess. Some nights were just easier to watch pass by without sleeping a wink.

"Are the ducks out tonight?"

"You just missed them." He settles down beside her, taking in the way she expertly twined the flower stems together to make another circlet. She made them in her free time, sometimes spending hours on them to make designs, but this one was simple like the one she'd made him wear months ago. "Why are you awake?"

"I couldn't relax." It wasn't a lie, he really couldn't force his body to relax even hours after the fight at Nottingham Castle, but he also kept seeing a Saracen sword plunging through the skin and muscle of Took's stomach. Not just from today, but also back on the King's birthday, both instances leaving his hands stained in the warm silver of his companion's blood. It's not until he feels her small hands on his shoulders that he realizes she was no longer beside him. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to help you relax, Gilly." She hisses as she continues to shift behind him, obviously unable to find a position that allowed her to massage his shoulders and keep the stitches in her belly from pulling. "Lie down."

"What?"

"On your stomach." She gives his side a playful thump and he does as instructed, resting his chin on his folded arms. He had no idea how this would work at all since she couldn't get at his shoulders good enough on her knees. In fact, the only way she could—

"Took," he chokes out upon feeling her straddling him, most of her weight resting on his lower back. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling and she wasn't exactly heavy compared to his mass, but it made him feel things best pushed aside.

"Yeah?"

"It isn't proper for a man and woman to be in this position."

"Neither was you cuddling me two months ago, but that didn't stop you."

"I wasn't engaged to be married two months ago." She went tense for a beat, as tense as him, and then she completely relaxed and he felt her skilled hands working at the knot between his shoulder blades.

"Then tell me to stop." It was a dare, one he wasn't sure he wanted to respond to, but it had to be done. He couldn't have word spreading that he and the Ranger were engaging in such intimate activities; the scandal alone would mean the end of his and Marian's engagement. That's all he wanted in life, to be married to a good woman and have a child to pass knowledge on to, to be able to feel love without any repulsion.

"Mmm." It was pitiful really, that he could managed nothing more than a moan as the knot relinquished under her probing fingers. He really needed this, needed to feel at peace for just five minutes before he's expected to rejoin the fray of social niceties. Besides, all the servants have retired for the night, so who would see them?

The ducks certainly wouldn't spread any gossip.

"How are things between you and Marian," Took asks after a moment of silence. Well, not silence, there were the occasional moans and groans from him, but no actual words exchanged until now.

"I suppose they're fine."

"You  _suppose_? Have you actually talked to her in the past few days beyond the times you ran into her in the castle?" His mouth snaps shut and he has to think back through their interactions. In truth, he rarely got the chance to actually speak with his fiancée beyond bumping into her, when he gave her a new gift, or when she needed something.

"No... I haven't." Took's hands move to his neck, her thumbs running alongside his spine and making him let out a guttural moan that he'd never uttered before. The woman had magical hands and he never wanted them to stop.

"Maybe tomorrow you can take time off enough to just sit her down and have a nice talk." What would he talk to her about? It seemed they could rarely have a conversation without one of them growing angry and storming off. "You could take her riding one day or something."

"What would we talk about?" Conversations with Marian seemed harder than they were with Took, somehow forced or fake. Marian was an actual Lady of the court, he would have to obey the rules of propriety and worry about her delicate sensibilities; they were things he never had to think about when he spoke with his Ranger.

"Ducks."

"Ducks?"

"Yes, ducks. I've never met a person that didn't think ducks were adorable and I'm sure Marian has a love for animals of the cute and fuzzy nature." He blows a lock of hair out of his eyes as he thinks it over, wondering if animals were a good way to a woman's heart. She did love the stallion he'd given her and there were several small animals that ran around her father's property, so Took might actually be on to something.

"I could bring her here to see our ducks...?"

"Sure, I could have a blanket set out and some fruit ready so that she can think it was all your idea." He liked that, it was a great idea and would surely impress Marian, but it didn't feel right bringing her here. This was the spot he and Took shared on clear nights like this one, the ducks were theirs to watch, the conversations here were always between himself and his Ranger.

"Or I could just take her to the harbor, there's bound to be plenty of ducks there."

"And smelly dock workers."

"We won't be near the docks; we'll be relaxing on the sand and watching as the waves crash against the shore." Her hands move to his shoulders and he relaxes even further, marveling at the way she handled him. She didn't pause to contemplate where he needed her hands, they just went there instinctively. There's another stretch of silence, comfortable and familiar after months of them both saying nothing in their sitting room during the evening.

He was just beginning to wonder if she was nearly finished when he felt her rise up so he could turn onto his back. 

"What stands out in your mind when you think about her?" Took settles on his stomach, hands splayed out across his bare chest. It was strange when he noted the difference in skin color, her hands standing out sharply against his pale flesh. Even while he focused his gaze on the way moonlight created a halo against her dark curls, his thoughts turned to the woman he loved and slowly his eyes closed so he could picture her. 

"She's not afraid to speak her opinion," he murmurs," she's kind to me, but isn't afraid to admonish me if I've done something she doesn't agree with. When I look at her, I can't stop thinking of everything I would do to keep her safe. She's fearless in every situation I've seen her in and never judges me, she cares so much about the people she's loyal to that it scares me sometimes. And... When I see her face light up in a smile.... It's like I want to do anything if it means it stays there, even if I have to give up everything to make it so."

"Sounds like true love to me." And it's not until he opens his eyes and the picture doesn't change that he realizes he wasn't describing Marian.

"Yes, I think it is.”


	40. Her Cinderella Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a cute Jas/Guy scene as a present for everyone that's about to celebrate the 4th of July.

In the week following Gisborne's epiphany, he began to notice the smaller things that Took did during the day; everything from the way she tugged on her hair when she was reading to the way she ran the tip of her finger across the soft petals of her Carnations when she tended to them every morning and every evening. And while he was noticing these things, he noticed her noticing him; she snuck glances at the way he moved whenever she thought he was preoccupied and it never failed to make him blush.

Something else he noticed was the way she was wearing more clothes lately, like she wasn't comfortable with how she looked anymore. Gisborne's mother had done the same a few times a year and he remembered that his father would always buy her something to wear during those times and his mother always felt better afterwards.

_ "Sometimes, Guy, women just need to be reminded that you think they're beautiful and worth more to you than the stars in the sky _ ."

He hadn't understood what his father had meant at the time, but now he was starting to figure it out. It didn't mean buying their affections or showing you could take care of them financially, it's showing them that they don't need the gifts to be beautiful, but you'd do whatever it took to make sure they knew they were the most precious thing in your world.

So he did the first thing he could think of and had a dress tailored; pale blue and made of the finest materials, it was a gown fit for royalty. It was a sneaky undertaking that led to him bringing Nottingham's finest tailor to the manor on the rare moments Took fell asleep, urging the woman to use caution to keep Took from waking up.

A week after that, the dress was ready and so were a pair of satin slippers with a delicate gossamer butterfly on the toes. To accompany the dress, he bought a silver ring set with a pale blue stone, a silver bracelet with three rings, several blue stones set into the center ring of it, and a necklace made to look like a single butterfly wing. He would've purchased a string of small sapphires for her hair, but realized he'd never seen her put anything in her hair aside from her hat.

All in all, he was quite proud of his purchases and was quick to pick them up from the shop the second the gown had been finished. He picked out a wooden box to put it all in, smaller than a trunk and easy to handle, it was made of cherry wood with small butterflies engraved on the top of it and was lined in a fine pink silk.

"Your young bride will certainly be pleased with this, Sir Guy," the tailor promised with a wink, her gray hair braided so it wouldn't hinder her while she worked. He dropped the purse of silver in her hand, took up the box that held the neatly folded gown and jewelry, and left as quickly as he could. Everyone would think these were for Marian and he supposed there was no way to fault their logic considering it was Marian that would be his wife.

When he returned to his home, he snuck up the stairs and down the hall to Took's room, setting the box at the end of her bed near her feet. He meant to leave afterwards so he didn't wake her, but he was caught by surprise when he noticed how calm she seemed. There were no worry lines, no furrowed brows or whimpers, and her breathing was calm; a nice, deep sleep that she needed more than anything.

With a faint smile, he leaves her room and heads for his own, collapsing face first on the bed and asleep before he even managed to kick off his boots. His dream that night was strange, filled with sunlight and a giggling child he only ever saw in slumber, throwing her arms around his neck and calling him _papa_.

* * *

It was late morning the next day when he heard the sounds of excitement from down the hall. It took him a moment to realize why his Ranger would be excited about anything before noon, but then he remembered that he'd delivered his gift yesterday evening. He scrambled out of bed and out of yesterday's clothes, quickly pulling on the usual black breeches, tunic, boots and coat before exiting his room.

He knew it would take longer than usual for Took to be dressed, so he stayed a few feet away, his back against the wall and his gaze trained on the door. By now the maids would be ushering her into the requisite corset and petticoats…. Now they would be slipping on the gown and tying up the laces in the back to make it fit her properly…. Slippers would cover dainty feet…. Now hair would be combed through and her makeup applied.

Right on time, the door opened and two maids stepped out, nodding in respect before hurrying down the stairs. Gisborne waited an extra minute to see if Took would come out on her own, but grew worried when she remained in her room.

_ Did she not like it after all? Did he underestimate her love of butterflies? _

Frowning, he steps into her room and pauses in awe at the sight before him. She had her back to him, her gaze fixed on the looking glass across the room that she'd conjured—one of the few things that didn't immediately break—the glass the perfect size to show her entire outfit.

"How do you like it," Gisborne asks, noting the tears gathered in her eyes as she turns to face him fully. She looked beautiful to him, like a princess out of the fairy tales his mother used to tell him when he was small. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders and her hands grasped the full skirts of the gown as she bobbed a curtsy.

"I feel like Cinderella on her way to the ball." And then she said something that Gisborne had never heard her utter before unless he'd saved her life. "Thank you so much, Gilly."

"You look wonderful, Took." A blush added color to her cheeks and she gave him that soft smile, twirling on the tips of her toes in a neat circle. In that moment, there were no pressing issues, no King that needed to be assassinated or outlaws to hunt.

It was just him and this woman that was stealing his heart one smile at a time.


	41. Blue-Haired Angel Boys

The way Took moved around the room was almost terrifying to Gisborne, she was the definition of a predatory animal, pacing and glaring at the man tied in the chair in front of her. It wasn’t actually a man if you wanted specifics, it was an angel with bright blue hair that fell across eyes of molten gold. It was common knowledge that angels and Rangers didn’t mix together and Gisborne couldn’t help but wonder what Took would do to it.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you open and see how angels work,” Took demands, a blade grasped in her hand. The blade itself was made of bronze with runes burned along the center of it, the hilt metal with leather braided over it every two inches. The Samhain Blade, Took called it, something Rangers only brought out when they had to deal with an angel.

“Because this angel came with a warning for you,” it replies, looking completely at ease. Gisborne would have been a blubbering mess had he been in the angel’s position, bound to a chair by silver chains, at the mercy of a woman that killed without remorse.

“A warning or a threat?”

“A  _warning_ , Countess, nothing more.” Gisborne looks to the woman in shock, noting the way she tensed and gripped the hilt even tighter. He knew she had to be some sort of nobility from the way she carried herself, but he never expected anything more than a Lord’s daughter. “Call this a repayment for what your mother risked to save my life.”

“My mother’s dead.”

“Executed, I know.” The angel hung its head and its fingers moved against the wooden arms of the chair. “I petitioned my master to save her, but He was too late.” Took stares down at the angel, face blank, but that only served to make her even scarier. He’s never seen her like that before, so filled with disgust at the angel’s sadness that she wanted to murder him then and there.

“She told me that the angel was my age and wasn’t able to watch it being slaughtered because she saw Dash and me when she looked at it. My mother didn’t risk her life for you, Angel, she  _gave_  it. For that, I will take yours.”

“Took,” Gisborne calls out sharply, grabbing her wrist to keep her from stabbing the angel. “A word outside.” He had expected total resistance from her, but Took allowed him to tug her out into the hall, shutting the door after them. “You can’t just kill him like that.”

“Why not? It’s his fault that I grew up without a mother.”

“Listen to him, that’s all I ask. He came with a warning when he didn’t have to and it’s the least you can do.” He couldn’t stand by and watch her slaughter an angel, not when it meant possible retribution from God. “Afterwards, you can release him and I’ll kill him if he ever shows his face again. It’s the humane thing to do, Took.”

“I am not human,” she replies, sheathing the blade,” I never have been, so why are you expecting me to act like one?” Gisborne flounders for a moment, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, eventually letting out a long sigh and giving up. What could he possibly say to something like that? That he loved her more than anything in his life, that he wanted to see her safely through this life until he was nothing but dust?

“If I allow you to kill that angel and it results in your death, then I’d….” He takes a deep breath, pulling her into a hug that spoke everything he had trouble expressing. “I’d spend the rest of my life trying to bring you back so I could kill you myself, you stubborn woman.” It was a few heartbeats until he felt her arms around his waist and felt her warm breath on his neck. “I will not lose you due to foolish actions.”

“I’ll release Todd, then.”

“Todd?” He pulls back to look down at her, wondering who the hell Todd was and what he had to do with this conversation.

“Yeah, that’s the angel’s name.” She points over her shoulder as she talks, grinning up at him when he dissolves into a laughing fit. “I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

And angel named Todd…. Who would’ve thought?


	42. Interrupting the Angel

After returning from a particularly brutal tax collection, Gisborne expected to find Took alone in her chambers in Nottingham, doing whatever it was she did to keep the boredom at bay. What he found instead was her and the angel boy in a heated debate of sorts over mugs of ale. "All I'm saying is that Hufflepuffs have the best common room because it's just down the hall from the kitchens," Todd was saying, lounging in the armchair across from the settee where Took was stretched out.

"And all I'm saying is that I'd rather be able to see mermaids instead of sneezing my head off because of all the plants that Hufflepuff is covered in," Took returns, waving her mug in the air as she spoke. "Face it, Slytherin House may not have some of the best morals, but we do have an amazing common room."

"It  _would_  suck to be a 'Puff with allergies." Took nods in agreement, she and the angel lost in their thoughts for a moment. While all this was happening, Gisborne was wondering how in the hell Took had gone from wanting to brutally murder Todd to whatever the hell this is. What was a Hufflepuff anyway? Or a Slytherin for that matter. Aside from the snake crest on Took's shirt, Gisborne had no idea, but he figured that it must be something important or else Took wouldn't be so into the debate.

"At least neither of our houses has to answer a riddle to get inside."

"Yeah, there is that." The scene was too strange for words and Gisborne cleared his throat in an attempt to make it stop. Two sets of eyes land on him, Todd turning in his chair in order to see Gisborne.

"Am I interrupting," he asks, walking further in the room until he stood beside Took.  _Mine_ , a part of him growled,  _not yours_. "Nothing important, I hope." He kept his eyes on the angel, one of his hands coming down to rest on Took's shoulder in a show of possessiveness. The angel seemed to register the notion and had the grace to blush. Now at any other time, Gisborne would probably have squealed like a girl at the thought of speaking with an angel, but this one was encroaching on Gisborne's woman.

 _Don't say that out loud, she'll kill you for that, Guy_.

"Ah, I think I should get going…?" The angel phrased it as a question, gold eyes clashing with blue, and he leapt out of his seat at Gisborne's curt nod. "Yeah, I've gotta go…. Iron…. S-stuff and things. Maybe watch Pretty Woman…."

"Probably for the best as we've prisoners I'm sure Took needs to put the fear of Hell into." Not a complete lie, though he'd probably have a permanent imprint of her shoe on his arm after she finds out one of the prisoners is only seven or eight.

"Jazzy, I'll see you when you make it back to 2016." Took grins and waves, she and Gisborne watching with widened eyes as Todd jumps out the open window, blue wings unfurling from his back and carrying him on the faint breeze. Todd had been nothing like Gisborne had expected, dressed in strange trousers, two tunics of differing colors, and sturdy boots.

"Do all angels dress like that?"

"Nope," Took answers, looking up at him," Todd's into the punk rock scene and dresses the part." He had no idea what punk rock was and no inclination to find out either. Took seemed to guess his next question, standing up and tugging on her dark green shirt until her stomach was completely covered. "And I know we're supposed to be enemies, something like Benedict Arnold and ol' Georgie, but..." She shakes her head and looks to him for help.

"Your mother saved him."

"There had to be a reason beyond what she told me because there's no way in Hell that she did it because she saw my brother and me. She wasn't anywhere near that deep in the thirteen years I knew her. Lucifer below, the woman was high most of the time after she finished breastfeeding!" Took throws her hands in the air in frustration. "So why would she look at some angel and think he was worth her execution and burial?"

"What do you see when you look at him?" She opened her mouth, but pauses before she could answer, frowning up at him. She was stumped and he knew she didn't like it when that happened. She seemed to have an answer to everything, but she either didn't have one this time or didn't like it. Gisborne moves closer to her and cups her face with gentle hands, thumbs tracing her high cheekbones. "When you look at him, once the rage passes, what is it you see, Took?" She stares up at him, arms hanging limply at her sides.

"Hope, faith, pure goodness that I haven't seen since I held Garen in my arms." That seemed to shock her more than anything and she grasped Gisborne's hips as a way to steady herself. Gisborne shivers at the intimate contact, relying on all his training of patience to keep himself from bridging the space and kissing her with everything he had. "I saw my son in him, Gilly."

"Is it really so hard to believe what your mother said now? That she saw you and your twin in Todd's situation and just couldn't stand the thought?"

"I suppose not." She sighs, twirling a lock of hair around a finger. That's when he notices something and feels like the most oblivious man on the planet—her dark hair was completely straight for the first time since he's met her. It was nice he supposed, but he preferred her usual mass of curls. "So what's so interesting about the prisoners you brought in?"

"Oh, uh, one of them requires your attention."

"I've already told you, Gilly, it's totally normal for women to bleed for longer than four days in their cycle. She's not dying or hemorrhaging and you should just arrest her when she's less likely to bite your head clean off."

"What? No, it's not that." He shakes his head and tries to forget the particular day Took referenced. "There's a boy in the dungeons that was brought in with his father."

"I better have misheard you." Gisborne smartly keeps quiet, clasping his hands together behind his back and avoiding eye contact. Maybe if he made himself small, she wouldn't hit him with her shoe again. There was always hope, right? She couldn't be angry at him since she didn't know it was his fault that he child was locked away. A resounding  _thump_  echoes along with a high squeal of pain as Took's shoe connects with his bicep.

Apparently not.

"Woman! Stop hitting me with your shoe!"

"Don't think I'm above hitting you with your own boot." She points at him; it was the same kind of pointing all women did that's effective on the recipient, the one that means he was in deep trouble. With a sigh, he hangs his head and allows for the last hit, making sure not to look her way until her shoe is back on and she's marching out of the room.

This woman would be the death of him.


	43. Fireworks

“If he doesn’t speak, well, start on the boy,” Vaisey was saying as Jas came charging down the stairs, not looking particularly surprised when she went straight for the little boy curled up in a cell.

“You hurt this little boy and I’ll use your guts for garters,” Jas snarls at the Sheriff before kneeling. “I promise that you won’t be hurt.” Her voice was soft as she addressed the boy, fingers curled around the bars of the cell. “I can’t get you out of here, but I can bring you food and water.”

“You’ll do no such thing, Ranger. Act like the terrifying beast you’re meant to be or I’ll make you inflict the boy’s pain.” Jas moves faster than she ever has, pinning Vaisey against the wall with enough force that the back of Vaisey’s head starts to bleed.

“If you want me to behave like a beast, then I’ll start with  _you_.” She shoves him away from her as a man starts screaming again, moving back to the bars and reaching a hand through so she could ruffle the boy’s hair. “My name is Jas,” she tells him in a soft voice,” and you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” He looks up at her with a mixture of curiosity and fear, staying where he was with his back against the wall. “I’ll be back soon with something to eat.”

“A bleeding heart just like the man I’ve charged you and Gisborne with capturing.”

“You want Robin Hood in your dungeons, then get off your ass and get him yourself, Vaisey.” She went to shoulder past him only to be jerked backwards when he grabs a handful of her hair, his front pressed against her back with his mouth at her ear.

“Do not test me, Ranger, not when I need only make one call to your master to ensure you endure a thousand lifetimes of agony,” he hisses, Jas flinching instinctively. “Heal the damage you’ve caused and then get out of the dungeons.” Jaw clenched, she pulls out her pocketknife and makes a shallow cut along the palm of her hand, Vaisey taking just enough blood to heal his wound.

“You got what you wanted, so let me go.”

“And what if I decide to chain you up instead? You could be the main attraction in my Festival of Pain; a woman that never dies despite unspeakable tortures. Imagine how much fun it’ll be for me to watch you scream and beg for it to end.” Jas remains quiet, staring ahead of her at the stairs, using all of her will to keep her magic under her control. Thankfully her silence bored Vaisey enough that he pushed her away and turned back to the jailer. “Get out of my sight.”

Jas withdrew as quickly as she’d arrived, taking the steps two at a time until she reached the hallway and left the musty air behind her. She needed to get out of the castle for a while, get away from the politics and corruption until she could breathe again.

“There you are,” Gisborne says as she walks into the stables ten minutes later, a brush in his hand while the other rested on his stallion. He’d been smiling when she walked in, but that disappeared when he got a good look at her; the humidity of the dungeons had caused her hair to curl again, her hand was still bleeding freely, and her entire frame was shaking. “What’s happened?”

“It’s nothing.” She moves over to Tug, wrapping her arms around the mare’s neck and calming as the familiarity starts creeping in. She’d spent most of her pre-teen years with Tug, grooming her or just galloping through the countryside; anything to get out of the palace. Tug sensed the need for comfort, nipping at Jas’s loose hair like she’d always done when she felt playful or Jas needed cheering up.

“You can tell me anything, Took, you know that.”

“It’s stupid.” And it was, she shouldn’t have let Vaisey get under her skin like that. Just another weakness to add to the ever expanding list of them. “I don’t need to talk about it.” She tenses when she feels a hand on her back, able to feel the warmth of it even through the material of her shirt. Most of the people she’s ever touched were as cold as she was and she was always surprised at how warm humans were.

“My father always told me that it’s the things we think stupid that we should talk about the most.”

“And what did your mother say to that?”

“She usually smiled and agreed with him, though she was subtler about her methods.” There was a moment of silence, Jas replaying what had just happened in the dungeon and Gisborne battling the loss he still felt. “I want to help you get over it even if you think it’s stupid.”

She turns, prepared to tell him to leave her alone when she saw the raw sincerity in his eyes, her entire body seeming to freeze when she realizes that the emotions were all for her. And so she told him what had happened, word for word, then waited for him to tell her that it was dumb and she was one of the worst Rangers of her generation.

“I’ll kill him,” he growls, starting out of the stables. Jas stared after him in shock for a moment, then chased after him. The last thing she needed was the one person she actually like around here to go and get himself killed over her idiotic mistake.

“Wait,” she calls, wishing for the seventh time that week that her legs were just a bit longer. Gisborne continues his angry sprint, though she wasn’t sure if he was ignoring her or just couldn’t hear her. “Guy, stop!”

“No, he doesn’t get to treat you like that! No one has that right!”

“Why?” That did get him to stop and face her, a crease between his brows. “You humans look on me as though I’m nothing more than a tool in the grand scheme, something to make your jobs easier, and you’re right. Rangers look at all of you in the same sense, so I get that. Why do you care that Vaisey man-handled me?”

“Because you’re a living person.” Gisborne easily closes the space between them in a few strides, cupping her face in his hands and making her look at him. “You’re  _not_  just some tool to be used, you’re a person with a soul and morals even if they are a bit questionable at times. No, you’re not human, but you  _exist_. You have rights and you  _matter_  and to hell with Vaisey if he doesn’t agree.”

“But—”

“Why do you argue with me when you know I’m right?” Jas manages a sheepish grin and shrugs a shoulder.

“It’s kind of my thing, Gilbert.” He lets out a surprised laugh, his grip on her relaxing to something that felt more natural, one hand moving to her waist. Jas felt her heart beat faster, the butterflies starting a smack down in her stomach that was worthy of WWE, and her gaze was drawn to his lips. They were thin and as pale as the rest of him, but they were still sensual and she wondered what he’d taste like if she just raised up onto her toes and kissed him. “I….”

But Gisborne wasn’t listening again, his attention caught by something on her face. She couldn’t understand what had him so fascinated or why he almost looked like he was daydreaming. Did she have something on her face?  _Oh God, do I have lettuce in my teeth from lunch?_ She was about to pull away to check when he did the last thing she ever thought he’d do.

He kissed her.


	44. What Mister Darcy Felt

Jas lets out a sigh as she pulls back, eyes still closed as she felt Gisborne’s warm breath against her face. She’s kissed plenty of people in her lifetime, but none measured up to the one she and Gisborne had just shared; her nerves seemed to vanish, her entire body relaxed against his, her breath stolen right from her lungs.

 _Holy shit_.

“Took….” Gisborne trailed off, his arms wrapped around her and his chin against the top of her head. She didn’t want to move from his embrace, savoring the warmth and the safety she felt with him. He clears his throat after a moment of silence, though he only rests his cheek against her head so he could talk easier. “Was that a bad thing?”

“Huh-uh,” Jas manages, slowly opening her eyes and taking a partial step back so that she could look up at him. His cheeks were flushed and his pupils dilated, the usual signs of arousal, but she found something else as well. His eyes were bright as he meets her gaze, the happiness there plain for Jas to see.

“Good.” And then his lips were on hers again, his hands gasping her hips tightly to keep her close while her hands went to his neck. That feeling of absolute calm was just washing over her when she noticed a sound; footsteps, several yards away, muffled by grass, and light. It was a woman’s tread and the intruder would be upon them in just a few short minutes, though that’s not what made the nerves come surging to the surface. Jas knew the footsteps well after hearing them around the castle.

Marian.

She pulls away from Gisborne with reluctance, taking another two steps back to ensure there was space enough for her to breathe without smelling that intoxicating mixture of sandalwood and leather. “What…?”

“Your fiancée is fast approaching,” she explains, smoothing down her top to avoid meeting his gaze. “I’ll just….” She points at the stables over her shoulder. “I’ll be over here so you two can have some privacy.”

“Took, wait.” He catches her wrist again, trying to tug her back to him only for her to slip away with a shake of her head.

“I’m sorry, Gilly, I shouldn’t have let you do that.”

“What if I’m not sorry about it?” She chances a glance up and finds herself pinned in place by the intensity of his gaze, her eyes widening a fraction and her cheeks heating up. She’s never had a man look at her like that before, not with such heat and longing, and she wasn’t sure what to do. “Took, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted another woman before.”

“No you don’t.” She licks her lips before speaking again, using that pause to figure out what she wanted to say. “You love Marian, remember? You’re going to marry her and have children and be happy until the end of your days because a relationship with me would end in heartbreak.” Marian comes into view, forcing Gisborne to watch as Jas turns and enters the stables.

“Marian, I did not expect to see you here.” Gisborne’s voice was muffled and Marian’s response was even quieter, Jas trying to ignore the conversation as she picked up a brush and moved over to Tug. The mare seemed happy enough and Jas took comfort in the fact that she could always count on her friend. “It’s not up to me,” Gisborne was saying outside,” the child will remain in a cell until the debt is paid. I’ve already told you that.”

“It’s not right and you know it,” Marian returned vehemently. Unable to stop herself, Jas moves back to the door and peers out, catching Gisborne’s eye over Marian’s head. He needed to change the subject before Marian said the wrong thing and Jas’s temper sparked. She liked to think she had a good hold on her anger, but it wouldn’t be the first time she gave in and allowed her years of training to take over.

“I have no control over who leaves the dungeon and at what time. I’ll talk to the Sheriff, but—”

“You are the Sheriff’s second-in-command, he will listen to you above all others.” Jas mouths a new topic when Gisborne looks to her again, mouthing it twice more to be sure he understood. It was worth a shot and sure to put a stopper on Marian’s growing anger.

“What do you think about ducks?”

“I- What?” He clears his throat and squares his shoulders, resigned to what he’d blurted out.

“Ducks, the little yellow creatures that inhabit this earth. What do you think of them?” Marian’s posture relaxed and she gave a murmured response that she thought them lovely. “Perhaps, if your father allows, you and I could go for a walk one afternoon and watch the ducks.” Satisfied that the situation had calmed, Jas moves back over to Tug, working on a new braid in the mare’s pale mane.

“I’ve got to be the dumbest woman on the planet,” she confides as her fingers work. “Not only did I just kiss a man engaged to another woman, but I’m giving him tips on how to get along with said woman even though I’m in love with him. Do you suppose Mister Darcy ever felt like this before he and Lizzie got together?”

 _Perhaps he was right all along in playing the aloof asshole_.


	45. Jane Bond and Company

“Marian,” Jas hisses, the other woman snapping around to see where the voice had come from. “Over here, now!” Jas gestures impatiently until Marian was closer, then yanks her around the corner where they would have a better chance of escaping notice. Guards were patrolling the castle and the last thing Jas needed was for one of Vaisey’s little birds to whisper in his ear.

“What do you want now,” Marian asks, jerking her wrist free from Jas’s tight hold. Jas takes a moment to make sure they were alone before facing the human again, fingering the strap of her halter top dress.

“I’m about to do something too stupid for words.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Jas has to choke out the next words, feeling sick afterwards.

“I need your help.” She shudders, pulling an expression of disgust. “Wow, that was way worse than practicing in front of a mirror. Anyway, you’re gonna assist me in a kidnapping that Gilly and Vaisey can’t have any knowledge about.” Marian’s face lights up in realization and she takes half a step closer to Jas.

“The child in the dungeons?” At Jas’s nod, Marian continues excitedly. “Why haven’t you told Guy about this?”

“Because he won’t be punished if he has no clue what I’m doing.” She’d be damned before she saw Gisborne die because of her. “Listen, I need someone to pick a lock so I can get the kid as far from here as possible before Vaisey’s festival starts.”

“I can do that.” Jas gives her a dry look and a smirk, Marian’s cheeks flushed as she realizes what she’d just admitted. “I mean- I don’t actually…. Who am I kidding? You don’t care that I can pick locks.”

“Especially since it’ll work in my favor.”

“What about his mother and the Cooper?”

“I’ll barely be able to sneak the kid out, but his parents would draw too much attention since the guards are on red alert. Your lovely outlaw can rescue whoever he wants later, but we have to do this  _now_  before it’s too late.”

“Then let’s go.” Jas and Marian walk side by side to the dungeons, Jas pulling out a sturdy key made of iron, given to her by Gisborne, and unlocking the door only to have a guard bar her way just beyond.

“Move it or lose it, Soldier.” The guard says nothing, left hand resting on the pommel of his sword and his eyes focused straight ahead.  _Great, another one of these guys_. “Let me put that another way, move out of my way or I’ll push your stubborn ass right down the stairs and do what I came to do anyway.”

“The Sheriff sent us to check on the prisoners,” Marian cuts in, bumping Jas out of her way. “He wants to ensure they’re all in the proper state for the Festival of Pain later this afternoon. Of course, you’re welcome to go and ask him yourself.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Jas advises, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder,” he’s having his weekly bath and he doesn’t like being interrupted.” The soldier goes pale beneath the black chainmail hanging from his helm, stepping aside to allow the women entrance. “Good boy, I’ll be sure to tell Gisborne about this.” They continue down the stairs, relying on the torchlight to avoid hitting the chains hanging from the ceiling. “He’s in this one over here.”

“How are we supposed to get him out without the guard suspecting anything?”

“Same way I got Lambert out.” Jas moves away from the cells and over to the wall, grunting in effort as she forced one of the stones inward, then pulls on the sconce to make a section of the wall swing outwards. “There are secret passages all over this castle and I know ninety percent of them.”

“Can it be opened from outside?”

“Nice try, but no cigar. It’s indistinguishable from the rest of the wall and it doesn’t swing back this way far enough for anyone to get through.” Marian shrugs and drops to her knees in front of the cell, Jas moving to stand guard in case the soldier grew curious. “Make it fast.”

“What’s happening,” a woman demands and Marian quickly shushes her.

“We’re rescuing your son,” Marian assures her. “Robin will be here soon for the rest of you, but the Ranger and I couldn’t bear to see a child tortured.”

“Why would I ever trust my son with a Ranger?” Jas has heard things like that before and she should be able to shrug them off by now, but it always stung when she realized how little people thought of her. She goes tense all over, fighting the urge to glare at the woman over her shoulder. She’s just a worried mother, Jas couldn’t fault her for that.

“Because it was her idea to keep him safe. I would never have been able to get down here without her help. Ranger or not, she’s not as bad as she seems.” The door of the cell squeaks as it opens and Jas casts a worried look to the stairs, listening intently for any sounds of panic. “Ranger, what do we do now?”

“Give him to me,” Jas instructs, turning to watch as Marian shuts and locks the cell again,” I’ll take him with me to Locksley and you tell the guard upstairs that I’m staying with the prisoners to ensure no escape attempts are made.” Marian bites her lip, looking from the small boy to Jas and back again. “Look at me.” Marian does, pale green eyes bright with worry and excitement. “I would never hurt a child and nothing will ever change that.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about hurting him.” Jas lets out an annoyed huff, taking the boy’s hand in hers and leading him to the secret passage. “What is Guy going to do when he finds out?”

“He won’t do anything to me if he’s half as smart as he boasts about being.”

“Of course he won’t hurt  _you_.” Jas stops and looks at the other woman over her shoulder, brows knitted together over her eyes. “You don’t see it, do you?” When Jas remains quiet, Marian continues, taking a few steps forward. “He’s only marrying me now because it’s expected of him, but the way he looks at you….”

“He looks at me the same way he looks at everyone else, Marian.”

“No, he looks at everyone else with contempt and he looks at me with respect, but it’s entirely different when he looks at you. His entire demeanor changes when he catches sight of you around the castle and I’ve seen the way he studies you when you’re distracted by something. This is more than respect, it’s complete devotion and childish awe; he looks at you like someone might look at their first sunset.” Jas’s cheeks heat up in a dark blush, nervous butterflies fluttering in her belly.

“You shouldn’t say stuff like that when they’re not true.”

“You want to know how I figured out what he feels for you? It’s because you look at him the exact same way. You love each other, but he’s too loyal to admit it and you’re too stubborn to risk your heart in his hands.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway since he’s marrying you. Whether or not you see it, his every waking thought revolves around you. Well, you and his hair; you’ll understand that when you see how long he spends on it every morning. Marian, he’s overlooked all of your crimes and all your faults because he loves you that much.” Jas gestures for the boy to stay where he was so she could cross the room, leaning down to whisper. “So I’ll only say this once: Break his heart, fragile as it is, and I’ll tear yours out of your chest.”

Most people would look frightened at the threat, but Marian only has a smug smile. Damn woman.

“I’m not the one that carries his heart, Ranger.” And then she was waltzing out of the dungeons and Jas was left behind in confusion. Surely Marian couldn’t be right about Gisborne, not when Jas had seen the way he hung on the human’s every word.  

No, Jas and Gilly were only friends and they would have to stay that way.


	46. Jas's Hopes and Dreams

Jas grins down at the small boy playing by the fire, wondering if her baby would’ve looked like herself or if he would’ve resembled his father. Isiah had been a beautiful human with bright red hair and the happiest eyes Jas had ever seen, dazzling her easily; she was only a child of nineteen and he was twenty-three, a sweet man by any standards. Sometimes Jas wondered what he was up to now, if he’d ever made it to London like he’d wanted to or if he was still working as the CEO of a multibillion dollar company his father had started.

Garen had his eyes and complexion, the same goofy sense of humor that made the toddler laugh at nearly every scene in The Aristocats.

This boy, however, was unusually solemn for such a young child. John was his name, like his father, and he was much too skinny for Jas’s liking. The first thing she’d done once he was in her room was pile up a plate with food and find a goblet of water, making him sit and eat before he was allowed to ask any questions. After inquiring about how long he’d be staying and if he could have more food, John went silent and focused on whatever was put in front of him.

That was fifteen minutes ago and now he was playing with a few toys Jas had summoned—the smaller ones actually staying in one piece for once, Jas is happy to add—ignoring the world around him while Jas sang quietly. It wasn’t until she heard footsteps on the stairs that she realized someone was coming her way and she needed to hide John.

“Quickly,” she instructs,” under the bed.” He scrambled for cover, Jas letting the bed skirt drop and straightening up right as her bedroom door opened to allow Gisborne inside.  _Talk about your close calls_.

“Were you just talking to someone,” he asks, looking around the room and missing the small, wooden horse disappearing under the bed.

“Nope.” Jas shakes her head, raising her brows when Gisborne’s eyes land on her again. “Why?” Surely he didn’t already know about the fact she’d kidnapped a child right from the castle. News couldn’t have traveled that fast already, could it?

“Then who’d you just tell to hide under the bed?”

“My hopes and dreams, Gilbert. I’m finally burying them.” He crosses the room and rests his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him until she could feel his breath on her face. Looking up into his eyes, she had to bite her tongue to keep a confession from escaping. Jas swallows hard, bringing her hands up to rest on his broad shoulders.

“Do I want to know?” She shakes her head, letting out a sigh when he gives her a half-smile; he would drop the subject and that’s all that mattered. He took another moment to watch her before bending his head down to place a gentle kiss on her lips; it was slow and tender, a kiss one would share with someone they loved more than anything in the world. She didn’t even hesitate to kiss him back, all thoughts fleeing from her mind except for how soft his lips were against hers.

He moves his hands to the backs of her thighs, lifting her and letting her drop onto her bed before climbing over her, every bit the predator baring down on her. With nimble fingers, she undoes the buttons of his leather coat and shoves it off of him, his tunic quickly following until she could rest her hands against the bare skin of his back. Feeling his muscles rippling, Jas marvels at how strong this man was for the millionth time.

Gisborne kisses a path from her lips to her throat, her flesh feeling as though it was on fire wherever he touched. She needed this more than she needed air, the feel of another person so close and actually  _wanting_  her almost enough to make her cry out all on its own. The hand that wasn’t supporting him was still on her outer thigh, making her leg wrap around his waist.

Jas lets out a whimper of pleasure, arching against him as his teeth find the tender skin where her neck and shoulder meet, nipping at it and soothing the sting with his tongue. Her eyes flutter closed, hands tangled in his hair, the strands silky and soft against her fingers. She didn’t want to focus on anything else in the room that wasn’t the man above her, which is why it came as such a shock when he pulled away with a furrowed brow.

“Why,” she breathes, all she could manage at the time.

“Your hopes and dreams just made a sound of disgust,” he returns with a breathy laugh, sitting up completely as he grabbed his tunic. Then she remembered the kid under her bed, a blush creeping over her cheeks and her chest.

 _Shit on a stick_.

“Right, they do that from time to time.” He snorts, working on the buttons of his coat while she lays limply on her bed, trying to catch her breath as she stared up at the ceiling of her room.

“I almost forgot why I came up here to begin with.” He drops something on her stomach, Jas raising up on an elbow to examine it. A small ring that looked around the right size for her finger, made of bronze with small green leaves and nine pearls that were even smaller, designed to look like a Lily of the Valley flower. She’s only seen it on two occasions, three now, and she stares at it in confusion.

“Shouldn’t that be on Marian’s finger already?”

“I want to pass it on to someone I know will take care of it.” Jas carefully picks the ring up and sits up straighter, looking from it to its owner. “My mother would’ve wanted it to be in safe hands.”

“Your mother would’ve wanted your bride to have it.” Jas tries to give the ring back, but Gisborne only takes it long enough to slide it on her index finger. “Gilly, I really don’t think you should give it to me. You obviously care about this ring a lot and—”

“Hood snatched the ring right off Marian’s finger.” He keeps his gaze firmly on hers, their hands clasped together tightly. “I took it as a sign and bought a new engagement ring for her, but this one…. This one needs to go to the person I trust above all others. I’ve seen how much time you spend to make sure all your jewelry looks pristine and I know you’ll take care of this one.”

“If you’re just giving it to me because you think I’ll become your mistress after you’re married, then you can shove it where the sun don’t shine. I have more self-respect than that despite what humans think of my race.”

“I would never ask that of you and you know it.”

“Thanks, Gilly.”

“You’re welcome, Jazzy.” She makes a face at that and Gisborne lets out another laugh, freeing one of his hands to cup her face. “No matter what happens with me and Marian, you’ll always be the woman I turn to when I need someone and I hope you’ll do the same with me.” There’s another noise from under the bed, breaking up what might have been a tender moment. “Apparently your hopes and dreams are growing bored, so I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour.”

“Probably a good idea.”


	47. Cheating Outlaws

“I’ve just received word that we’ve a prisoner missing,” Gisborne states as Jas walks with him into the stables.

“Yeah, you should talk to the dude in charge of guarding them,” she shrugs,” he seemed a little gullible.” Gisborne holds out his arm, forcing Jas to stop or run right into it. The look he sends her way is one she’s seen too many times to count now, full of exasperation and annoyance.

“Please tell me the missing child wasn’t hidden under your bed.”

“The missing child wasn’t hidden under my bed.”

“You could try to be convincing, you know.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Her expression turns solemn when he doesn’t even crack a smile, Jas giving a shrug. “I couldn’t stand by and watch a little boy be tortured, not after what I went through with my son.” There’s a moment of tense silence where Jas isn’t sure whether or not Gisborne would actually help this time. Has this pushed him past his limit?

“As far as the Sheriff will know, you’ve been in Locksley all day and know nothing of a kidnapping.”

“Thank you.”

“Just promise me you’ll stop helping prisoners escape.” He picks her up and puts her on his horse, climbing on behind her and taking up the reigns.

“You got it, Dude.” They were quiet for most of the trip to Nottingham Town, Jas’s gaze focused on the ring Gisborne had slid on her finger earlier. It was beautiful and antique, something that should be passed on to a loved one instead of a Ranger you haven’t even known for a full year.

_Is he doing it to spite Marian?_

She wanted no part in his relationship with the human woman and she’d throw the ring at his head if she finds out he gave it to her just because he was angry at Marian. She doesn’t even notice they’d arrived at the castle until Gisborne’s warmth against her back disappeared, Jas glancing up and around for a second to get her bearings before hopping down.

“This way, Took,” he instructs, leading the way over to a wagon parked in the courtyard. It was more akin to a coach with doors able to be locked, filled with heavy sacks of coin. “Is it loaded?”

“Aye, sir,” a guard nods confidently, stepping aside for Gisborne to lean in and check the contents of the wagon.

“Don’t just check one bag,” Jas advises, stepping closer and watching the silver coins fall through Gisborne’s fingers and back into the sack. Gisborne cocks up a brow and Jas rolls her eyes at the stupidity. “What better way to fool someone than to make them think they’re sending out a whole shitload of money than to have the first couple of bags filled like they should be?”

“None of Hood’s men have touched this money, ma’am.”

“Care to bet your life on that, soldier?” She raises a hand and two bags rise in the air, exploding at a snap of her fingers and allowing grains to rain down on the other bags. “This right here is why I looked up to Hermione Granger as a kid.” The guard tries to sneak off, but Gisborne grabs the back of his shirt, sending Jas an approving smile.

“Well done, Took,” he admits, struggling only a little to keep the smaller man in place. “Congratulations, soldier, you’ve just earned yourself a front row seat in the Sheriff’s festival.”

“I’ve heard it’s supposed to be totally awesome.” Jas slams the doors of the wagon closed and snaps the lock in place to ensure no one else gets any ideas about stealing the tax money. “Now, I’ll give you two choices.” She rests a hand on the man’s shoulder, giving him a bright smile. “You can spill your guts and tell us what you know or I can spill your guts using a spoon.”

“Why a spoon?”

“Because it’ll hurt more, Gilly.” She turns back to the soldier, his chin raised in defiance and something like pride shining in his eyes.  _Hang on a second…._  Jas knocks the helm off the man’s head, revealing dark blonde hair and the rest of the man’s face; handsome for the most part with gray eyes, a small mouth, and a nose that looked like it had been broken at some point. “Check it out, we got ourselves an outlaw.”

“And if he’s standing guard out here, then we’ll have more outlaws inside with Vaisey.”

“No,” Allan snaps hatefully,” it’s just me today.”

“If you’re the only one of Hood’s men here, then I’m a donkey.” Jas opens her mouth to remark that he  _was_  an ass, but Gisborne gives her a look that causes her to shrug instead. “Let’s go and show everyone our find.” Before they could move, Allan kicks out at Gisborne, sending him to his back before swinging for Jas.

“Get them out, Robin!” Jas catches the fist in both hands, but is unable to stop the other one as it connects with her stomach, driving her to her knees.

“Little bastard,” she grunts, still clinging to one of Allan’s hands to at least control that much. Allan straddles her stomach, to keep her in place, Jas wriggling under him in an attempt to buck him off of her. Both of them forgot about Gisborne until he shot forward and tackled the other man, both of them rolling on the cobblestones as they tried to remain dominant.

“Took,” Gisborne shouts,” get to the hall and stop Hood!” She scrambles to her feet and sprints into the castle, bursting into the hall in time to find Hood strapping Vaisey upside down to one of the torture devices.

“Peek-a-boo, Robbie.” He stands quickly and nocks an arrow, aiming it at her like she was actually afraid of it. “It’s cute that you actually think your little arrow can do something to me.”

“An arrow to the chest would slow down anyone,” he counters with an arrogant smile, backing away as she advanced,” even Rangers. Why shouldn’t I shoot you now?”

“Because my buddy is currently trying to strangle your buddy.” She shrugged, not really caring if she was shot or not as long as her pretty yellow dress wasn’t stained by her blood. “Besides, I have the Cooper’s little boy somewhere safe where you can’t get him.”

“You do realize I can get into Locksley Manor without anyone knowing, don’t you? John isn’t there anymore for you to cuddle.” Jas moves to charge at him, but lets out a cry of pain as the arrow hits, the tip of it going cleanly through her right shoulder.

“Son of a bitch!” She hunches forward, wrapping a hand around the shaft of the arrow to keep it still inside of her. “One of these days, Hood, I’m going to pay you back for all the times you’ve tried to kill me.”

“Until then, Took.” He delivers a mocking bow before racing out, leaving Vaisey tied up and Jas contemplating her life choices. Gisborne limps inside a moment later, clutching at his side and pausing in the doorway as he takes in the scene.

“Allan get away?”

“Jabbed a finger in my eye and ran off before I could stop him.” Two sets of eyes land on the Sheriff, their bad moods lessening as they take him in. The contraption he was strapped to looked like a giant X, his naked back flat on the stones of the floor and a gag in his mouth to keep his screams unintelligible. “What do you say to leaving him like that until your shoulder has healed properly?”

“I think we deserve at least that much.”


	48. Hot Nights and Impromptu Dances

It was hot that night, a light sheen of sweat covering her from head to toe even with her windows thrown open and the blankets kicked off. If there was one thing she didn’t like after spending most of her life in Hell where ice skating in July was normal, it was the freaking heat.

Frustrated and unable to sleep, she slides out of bed and moves downstairs to the sitting room, finding her half-dead iPod on a bookshelf and turning it on. She made sure the volume wasn’t too loud, not wanting to deal with any disgruntled servants or Gisborne just yet. The song that starts playing is a soft one and she sways along to it as she opens one of the windows to see outside; the moon high and full in a dark blue sky, the silver of stars looking like glitter on velvet.

She stayed like that for the duration of the song, just admiring the way the stars sparkled and how quiet everything was. Everyone was sleeping right now, having peaceful dreams that they won’t want to leave behind, just curled up in bed with the person they love.

 _Lucky little shits_.

She turns her back to the view and closes her eyes, wishing that she could get cold again or distract herself from the heat. She knew humans would probably feel nice in this weather, dressed in snuggly clothes that would keep them from getting too cold, but Jas was dressed in a black and white bralette and a pair of gray cotton shorts.

“ _You think I’m pretty without any makeup on_ ,” she sings along softly, still swaying as she stands in the middle of the room _,” you think I’m funny when I tell the punchline wrong, I know you get me so I let my walls come down, down_.” Her swaying changes slightly, feet moving in time with the music. “ _Before you met me, I was alright, but things were kind of heavy. You brought me back to life, now every February you’ll be my valentine, valentine_.”

She lets the music play for a bit longer, dancing along to it with her eyes closing.

“ _Let’s go all the way tonight; no regrets, just love. We can dance until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!_ ” She doesn’t hear the creaking of steps or floorboards as someone else joins her in the room, a gasp escaping when she feels someone pressed behind her and leading the dance.

“ _You make me feel like I’m living a teenage dream_ ,” the person sings, picking up where she’d left off, voice deep and familiar,”  _the way you turn me on, I can’t sleep. Let’s run away and don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back_.” It was Gisborne, remembering the words from the numerous times she’d blasted it while reading, able to keep pace with her as she sped up the dance.

“ _My heart just stops when you look at me_ ,” they sing together, sharing a bright smile,”  _Just one touch, now, baby, I believe. This is real, so take a chance and don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back_.”

“ _We drove to Cali and got drunk on the beach, got a motel and built a fort out of sheets. I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece, I’m complete.”_

 _“Let’s go all the way tonight,”_ Jas picks up,” _no regrets, just love. We can dance until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!_   _You make me feel like I’m living a teenage dream; the way you turn me on, I can’t sleep. Let’s run away and don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back_.”

“ _My heart just stops when you look at me. Just one touch, now, baby, I believe. This is real, so take a chance and don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back_.”

“ _I'mma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight. Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight_ ,” Jas sings again with a laugh, his hands on her hips and his chest against her back as they moved together. “ _You make me feel like I’m living a teenage dream; the way you turn me on, I can’t sleep. Let’s run away and don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back_.”

“ _My heart just stops when you look at me. Just one touch, now, baby, I believe. This is real, so take a chance and don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back_.”

“ _I'mma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight. Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight_ ,” they finish together, facing each other as the song changes, both of them breathing hard. Jas’s heart was racing and it wasn’t just from the exertion, her gaze locked with Gisborne’s.

The skin his thumbs were touching felt like a fire was starting, the flames of something not completely familiar curling in her belly.  _What was it exactly?_  And then it hit her, the feeling one she’d only felt on a couple of occasions and most of them around this man.

She wanted him like she’s wanted no one else, an urge that only grew stronger as she took in his flushed cheeks and the way his lips were parted, his breath warm against her face.  _He’s got a fiancée_. That thought was like having a bucket of cold water thrown on her, Jas taking a quick step back and lowering her gaze to her bare feet.

“I, uh, I should get some rest,” she breathes, hurrying past him and up the stairs. “I’m such an idiot.” She shuts her bedroom door and drops onto the bed, cheek flat against one of her pillows. “Why would he ever want to do something like that with a Ranger when he could have Marian?”

 _I’ll just have to start thinking about Umbridge when Gisborne’s around so that situation won’t happen again_.

She nods resolutely, rolling onto her back so that she’s spread-eagle on her bed, a cool breeze ruffling her curtains. As she laid there, she realized something that had the frustration rising to the surface again.

“It’s still fucking hot in this place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they sing is Teenage Dream by Katy Perry.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqsZ9rhTBSg


	49. Vaisey's News and Jas's Shock

After a long night spent in and out of a sweat-drenched sleep, Jas was more than happy to throw on a pair of jeans and her Slytherin sweater and join Gisborne in Nottingham. She was careful all morning to keep from touching him, going so far as to cuddle with Bastet until it was time to leave and the traitorous cat abandoned her.

She grabs her small makeup bag and heads out to the stables, Tug’s saddle already in place so that Jas only has to climb on. It was nice not having to do it so early in the morning, but she still missed the routine of it she’d had back in Oklahoma.

“Leaving without your makeup on,” Gisborne jokes as he takes her in. Without her makeup, Jas’s freckles were revealed and she hated them more than anything else on her body. “That has to be a first.”

“Not in the mood, Gilly, not in the mood.” She nudges Tug with her heels and they shoot out of the stables, Gisborne and his stallion easy matching their pace. She didn’t feel like communicating today, her nerves a frayed mess that would only be cured by a good nap later on.

At a fast gallop, they arrived to the castle sooner than they usually did, Jas and Gisborne handing off their companions to the stable boys before heading inside. It was stuffy inside the castle from all the fires going, making Jas’s sweater stick to her in places. The sweat made her itchy and she had to bury her hands in her pockets to keep her from scratching like crazy.

Vaisey was in his office, moving from birdcage to birdcage without acknowledging the pair until the door was shut. As Vaisey begins to speak, Jas hops up onto his desk and opens her bag, beginning to apply the easy makeup like eyeliner and mascara; she was a master at it, always able to make her eyeliner look like it was done by a professional.

“Gisborne,” Vaisey states,” hold my birdy for a moment.” Gisborne doesn’t have time to decline before the bird is dropped into his hands. Fighting to get away. To his credit, he keeps his hold on it gentle yet firm, not hurting the bird but keeping it in place all the same. “It’s poetry, don’t you think? Keeping a creature that would love nothing more than to fly free in a cage that barely allows it to stretch its wings.”

“Nice cliché,” Jas quips, then opens her mouth wide as she applies the eyeliner to her bottom lid. She wasn’t sure why she did it, but it was second nature to her and she didn’t plan on stopping.

“Yes, I thought so too. On the subject of cages and pretty birds, Gisborne, when do you plan on marrying Marian?” Vaisey moves back to the cages, only half listening to the people in the room with him.

“In due course,” Gisborne answers suspiciously. Jas couldn’t blame him; she’d be suspicious too if the Sheriff was poking his nose in her business. She’d also break his nose, but Gisborne had more restraint.

“Don’t play at coyness, we all know how anxious you are to have her in your arms. Tell us the proper arrangement.”

“We’re set to marry when the King returns. You would’ve known this had you shown up to the birthday party we had in Richard’s honor at Locksley.”

“The one that ended with you running after a band of outlaws and a hole in Jas’s stomach? I can’t honestly say I’m sorry to have missed it.”

“In all fairness, it was certainly exciting.” Jas snorts, putting away everything and then bringing out the third easiest task in her beauty regiment.

“And on that note, I have some good news and I have some bad news. Which would the two of you like to hear first,” Vaisey asks, petting one of his birds through the wicker cage. Jas just yawns, holding up her compact in one hand and applying a new coat of lipstick with the other. “Come on now, show some enthusiasm! After all, the King shall be returning to these very shores soon enough.”

There’s a moment of silence where none of the room’s occupants move, Jas completely frozen and Gisborne staring at the Sheriff in total shock. A churning in her belly made Jas feel like she was about to lose her breakfast, now regretting her choice of strawberries and oatmeal.

“That’s the bad news, but I suppose it’s also good news since Gisborne can finally cage a certain Lady.” With hands steadier than she felt, Jas closes the compact and slides the lid on her lipstick before returning both things to her makeup bag, studiously ignoring Gisborne’s happy laugh and the way Vaisey came to sit beside her on the desk. “Our boy’s growing up so fast. What do you have to say to the good news, Took?"

"A lot,” she manages as shock makes her tongue feel like a leaden weight in her mouth,” but none of it is polite, so I'll just go home."

“Are you not excited for me,” Gisborne questions, his happiness slightly dimmed. Knowing that he would soon be marrying the woman of his dreams caused Jas physical pain, a deep ache that made her want to curl around a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and sing sad songs. _Keep it together, your mascara is too expensive to be ruined by tears._

“I’m elated, Gilly.” She smiles, though it’s not as sincere as it should have been. What’s wrong with her? She should be ecstatic that he’s going to be with the woman that makes him happy.

“I would like it very much if you would sing at the reception, something soft and sweet that Marian and I could dance to. Could you think of one while she and I plan everything?”

“Of course.” _I Write Sins Not Tragedies sounds good to me_. “I’ll get started right away, but I’d like to do it from the comfort of my room.” She stands and tries to pass Gisborne, but he reaches out and grasps her wrist in a gentle hold that had her battling shivers.

“Thank you so much for your enthusiasm, Took. Without you pushing me, this may not have been possible.”

“Don’t mention it.”


	50. Musical Meditation

Jas doesn’t look up when she hears hoof beats coming up the path that leads to Locksley, already knowing Gisborne had arrived to show Marian his treasure hoard. She kept her head bent as she worked in the garden, Gisborne having decided earlier that the Carnations would look lovely interspersed with some of the Grass-of-Parnassus flowers Jas had left over from her flower crown projects.

Working with her flowers was soothing, but not even this could stop her thoughts from circling around the event that would happen on Saturday. She felt sick to her stomach whenever she pictured Gisborne’s lips on Marian’s and she wondered if she’d ever get over the feeling of wrongness.

Perhaps she’d move to London after the wedding, work directly under Prince John and just hope he has a good sense of humor. She could say that her master commanded it of her if anyone asked about the reason. She couldn’t exactly say that she wanted to rip her hair out whenever she saw the two lovebirds together.

Carefully, she brings a Carnation out and sets it with the others in a bucket before starting on the next one.  _I could start on Bluebells next, they were always my favorite_. She sighs softly, the soil cool against her fingers and dirt covering her jeans. Her master would be happy about this, her temptation caged by a marriage and so effectively out of her grasp. Not that she could ever grasp it anyway, she wasn’t the type to sleep with engaged men.

The flower joins the others and she grabs the bucket before standing, walking around to the front of the house just as Marian galloped off. “Those flowers are beautiful,” Gisborne compliments with a smile as they head inside. “You really have a gift.”

“I know,” she agrees, not really feeling like joking around. “I got a list of songs upstairs that you need to look over with your lady love. I figure the two of you could pick your favorite and I’ll just teach you the dance that goes along with it.”

“Why not just tell me your favorite and use that?”

“Because my favorite is being saved for my own wedding, Gilbert.” If she ever has a wedding anyway. It was a rare thing for a Ranger to actually marry someone and most just found someone they could stand to look at for the rest of eternity. Dinah and Basil’s joining had been one of convenience, having grown up together in the same social station; they had planned to stop having kids after Flynn was born, but Dinah wanted a daughter to balance the household.

“What’s it called?”

“If I ever get married, then I’ll tell ya.” She sets the bucket of flowers down on the table as they pass through the dining room, then heads straight up the stairs to her room. “Did Marian approve of the date or did you just decide that on your own?”

“She seemed fine with it when I told her.” Jas nods, feeling drained as she opened the door to her sitting room and went over to the bookshelf where she’d left her papers. Her contract was there, sealed in its envelope, and the sheet of partial lyrics was hidden under a few of the manuscripts she’d brought along with her to read.

“I wrote down the sweetest part of the songs and figured you could go from there.” She waited for him to leave with the paper after taking it from her, but Gisborne just sits in one of the chairs. “I have to pick out an outfit, so….” He just nods, brows furrowed as he reads over the lyrics. “Just stay here, I guess.” She moves into her bedroom, kicking he door shut behind her before going over to her wardrobe, the doors already opened from this morning. All of her clothes were stuffed inside and she only had a few of her nice dresses in there, so she didn’t have much of a choice where the wedding outfit was concerned.

Grabbing the first nice dress she saw, she hangs it on the door of the wardrobe and then sits at the vanity table. She just needed the relax, she could think better if she did that.  _Meditation’s worked before_. Nodding with that plan in mind, she moves a pillow to the floor and sits cross-legged on it, her back straight and eyes closed after she pushed play on her iPod.

Things were going great for the first song, just soft piano playing that helped her block everything else out for the first time all day. Her shoulders weren’t so rigid and her migraine was easing up.

“ _Jessie is a friend, yeah, I know he’s been a good friend of mine. But lately something’s changed, it ain’t hard to define, Jessie’s got himself a girl and I want to make her mine_.”

The song had her tensing all over again, quickly changing it to a new one only to have it completely die on her. “So much for relaxation,” she groans, massaging her temples.

“Took, I….” Jas looks up at Gisborne as he opens her door, raising an eyebrow while he tilted his head to the side. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Reasons.” There’s a moment of awkward silence where they just stared at each other with slightly narrowed eyes.

“Oo-kay.” He shakes his head and helps Jas back to her feet before handing her the sheet of paper with the lyrics on it. “Could you sing me this one?”

“It’s got two parts to it, so you’ll have to help me out.”  _I wonder if a broken heart hurts more than making a Horcrux? If it does, then Voldy was crazier than I figured._  She clears her throat, digging out another sheet with the full lyrics of the song written out. “You sing the parts written in red, okay?”

“Got it, Took.” Swallowing her feelings and blinking back tears, she begins to sing what has to be the worst duet simply because of how she felt right then.

“ _I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream; I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. Yet I know it’s true that visions are seldom what they seem, but if I know you, I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream._ ” Not even stopping to think about it, she takes his hands in hers and begins the dance around her room, humming for a few feet.  _“But if I know you, I know what you’ll do, you’ll love me at once the way you did—”_

 _“—Once upon a dream_ ,” Gisborne picks up easily, using their joined hands to keep his sheet of paper raised, his other hand in her waist while hers was on his shoulder. “ _I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream; I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.”_

 _“And I know it’s true that visions are seldom what they seem,_ ” they sing in unison, the paper fluttering to the ground,” _but if I know you, I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream._ ” They come to a graceful stop, Gisborne’s hand warm in hers and both of their cheeks flushed.

“Not bad,” she murmurs,” if you dance like that at your wedding, then Marian will be putty in your hands.”


	51. The Downside to Strip Uno

Gisborne and Took meet Marian in the small church the next morning, all of them yawning and wishing they could've stayed in bed. The wedding was in two days and they couldn't afford to laze about, though, so Gisborne had given strict instructions to the two women. Took, looking dead on her feet, stayed in the doorway with her flowers, stating that she'd rather put off dancing lessons until later on so she wouldn't accidentally knock someone's teeth out.

"What time will the wedding be on Saturday," Marian asks, tugging on a strand of her hair as she looked around. There were servants coming and going, decorating as well as they could on such short notice.

"Seven precisely," he tells her, straightening the cloth that covered the altar. He wouldn't have anything out of place, everything would be perfect and he would have Marian as his wife. He's wanted this too long for anything to get in his way, even feelings he may or may not have for a certain brown-eyed minx.

"And shall I have time for a proper wedding dress?"

"Of course not, but I'll pay for your finest gown to be tailored." His gaze shifts to Took, her chin on her fist and her eyes closed. "Took, those flowers won't arrange themselves!" She snorts and jerks upward again, fussing with the flowers as though she'd never been asleep to begin with. He tried hard to be cross with the Ranger, but he couldn't help a fond smile. "Have you decided on a song for the reception?"

"What do you feel when you look at me," Marian demands, gaining his full attention.

"I think you're one of the most beautiful women in the world." That was obvious, a man like Gisborne wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect.

"No, tell me what you feel in here." She rests her hand over his heart and he blushes as the touch sent his heart racing beneath her palm. When Gisborne can't come up with a suitable answer, she takes her hand away with a sigh. "Close your eyes." She doesn't speak again until Gisborne complied. He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he hoped it wouldn't take long. "What are five things you love about me?"

"Your intelligence, your fearlessness, your wit, your fierceness, and your beauty." That was easy enough, they were five things he tended to look for in women he found attractive, though he usually found them lacking.

"Three things I like."

"Reading, horseback riding…. And winning arguments with the Sheriff." That was a bit harder than Gisborne had expected and he hoped she wouldn't hold it against him.

"What do I like to do in the evenings when everyone's settled down?" He opens his mouth and promptly closes it again, the answer not as forthcoming as he would've thought. What did women like Marian do when they wanted to relax? "What's my favorite fruit?" He didn't even try to open his mouth this time, brows furrowing. "What are five things you love about the Ranger?"

"Marian, I really don't see how—"

"Just answer the question, I have a point to make."

"Her fearlessness, her fierceness, her intelligence, her wit, and her beauty." Again, five basic things that these two women shared. Perhaps he liked Took so much because she had acted as a substitute for the times Marian couldn't be around?

"Three things she likes?"

"Grooming Tug, singing, and painting the Sheriff's toenails odd colors." He didn't even have to stop and think of that, Took's strange amusements still fresh in his mind.

"What does she like to do in the evenings?"

"Sit by the fire and watch the sparks of it." He would catch himself watching her do that sometimes, entranced by the childish awe on her face at the way the flames curled and danced in front of her.

"Her favorite fruit?"

"Strawberries, though cherries place a close second."

"You didn't have to stop and think about any of those, did you?" He opens his eyes, staring down at Marian in confusion. "Why do you think that is?"

"Because I've lived with her for nearly a year.

"And you've known me for five yet you couldn't even answer what I loved to do with surety. Guy, perhaps I'm not the one you should be marrying." Her words hit him hard and he took an involuntary step back, shaking his head. "I bet you could tell me the name of her childhood pet."

"No." _Yes, he was a little turtle named Speedy the Wonder Turtle_. Marian presses her lips together slightly, looking down the aisle where Took was arranging a vase of pink flowers. "Marian, you're the woman I've loved for five years."

"I'm the only woman around here that ever dared to question your opinion, Guy. You liked that I didn't back down without a fight even if it was a subtle one, but then Took got here and did the same thing. You want to know the difference, though?"

"No, I want you to pick which song you'd like to dance to the most. I'm partial to this one called Once Upon a Dream."

"The difference is that Took never backs down and constantly frustrates you yet I've never seen your fights last more than a few hours. You and I had a fight and we didn't even interact with each other again for nearly three weeks; we avoided each other after the fight, but you and Took seek each other out and heal things with a little joke. You love each other and both of you are too damn blind to see it. Why aren't you marrying her instead?"

"Took is the only friend I have here and I don't want to chance losing it." He didn't mean for the words to come out, wanted nothing more than to suck them back inside and pretend that they had never left the safety of his head.

"Look at Took." He lets out a sigh of frustration and looks back to his friend, taking in the way her attention was completely absorbed by her task. "What do you feel right now?"

"I-I feel like my heart's going to beat out of my chest." The words were coming again, pouring out of his mouth faster than he could stop them. "Like nothing can go wrong and I have solid ground beneath my feet that won't crumble away and leave me hanging by my fingers over a dark chasm. I feel like I could do anything as long as Took is close by with a smile on her face."

"That's what real love is, Guy, and that's why I'm not the person you should be marrying." And then Marian, with her head held high, walked out of the church.

* * *

 

Gisborne and Took sit in the dining room later that night, two guards passed out nearby while she and he played a rousing card game that he couldn’t seem to get enough of. It was simple and fun, but that’s not the main reason it had Gisborne coming back to it again and again.

Strip Uno was his bitch.

At least, that’s how Took often said it with a teasing smile at the end of the games. He wasn’t complaining since it meant he got to see those strange tattoos on her side. Across her ribs was Prince John’s name—the name of her contract holder, she’d said—and a strange tree with words beneath it.

“Blue or a Wild card is the only thing that will save you now, Took,” he gloats as he slaps down one of his cards. Scowling, Took snatches a card off the deck and promptly removes her black jacket, tossing it off to the side. She had on a purple dress today that had white polka dots all over it, not one of Gisborne’s favorites, but it would be remedied after one more hand.

“Sir Guy,” one of the guards pacing the grounds calls,” the Night Watchman!”

“Always such an inconvenience.” Gisborne and Took get up quickly and take the stairs two at a time, their movements in synch as they head for Gisborne’s treasure room. It was almost unnerving how well they moved together, like they were reading each other’s minds, and yet he could barely read Marian’s face.

 _Now’s not the time to have second thoughts, Guy_.

He rams his shoulder against the door, grunting when it doesn’t open or give under his force. “Open up,” he commands,” you’ll not be escaping here with your life.” He turns to the guards that had gathered at the bottom of the stairs. “One of you dolts get me and axe; you two get outside and cover the windows in case he decides to jump. Took, try to get this door down.”

“You got it, Chief,” Took says with a salute. She cracks her fingers and stares at the door, resting one of her hands against it. He didn’t understand her magic, but it certainly had its uses. “So, does this count as a draw on our game or what?”

“We’ll pick it back up as soon as the Watchman is captured.” He catches the axe that his soldier had thrown, turning to face the door again right as Took blows it off its hinges. “Come out and play, Night Watchman!”

“Mind if I take his place,” Hood remarks from the first floor, his men keeping the lone soldier at bay. “Who knows, I might even win.” Swallowing down the frustration, he turns to face the newest threat.

“Come to pay your congratulations, Locksley? I’d invite you to Marian’s and my wedding, but all the pews have been filled.” As he was talking, Took used her magic to drag the Night Watchman out of the room, yanking a large bag out of the man’s hands and throwing it back inside.

“We might be able to squeeze him in beside the guy that’s always picking his nose,” Took shrugs, smoothing the creases from her dress. “As long as he doesn’t get drunk and do the Chicken Dance in front of everyone, we should be good.”

“As nice as it would be to force Hood to witness the union, it won’t be nearly so nice as when I take Marian to bed.” There’s a flash of hurt in Took’s eyes, but he doesn’t get the chance to contemplate it when the Watchman jerks up a knee against a sensitive piece of Gisborne’s anatomy, sending him to his knees with a shout. Another kick had him tumbling backwards down the stairs, though the Watchman came falling after him once Took’s bare foot connected with the outlaw’s ass.

“I’ve always wanted to do something like that.”

“Took!”

“Right, save it for later, got it.” As she makes her way down the stairs, too slow for his liking, Gisborne brings a hidden dagger out of his coat and jabs it into the Watchman’s stomach as the other man lands on him.

“Out, now,” Hood commands, grabbing the watchman and delivering a hard kick to Gisborne’s face before rushing out with the others. Took kneels at his side, lifting his head to examine everything and make sure nothing was broken.

“That looks like it smarts.”

“Why weren’t you quicker,” he demands harshly, growling the words only to hiss in pain as she reset his nose without a warning.

“Word of wisdom: Don’t be an asshole to the person with your sore face in their hands, Gilly.”


	52. Wolves and Shattered Shields

“I still think it should be casual wear.”

“You’re not wearing your pajamas to my wedding, Took,” Gisborne laughs, looking over at her. “I’ve seen all your clothes and I’m sure there’s something in that mess that you can wear tomorrow morning.” Jas pouts and bounces in the saddle with a whine.

“But it’s so  _early_!”

“Could the two of you save this conversation for a better time,” Vaisey snaps,” perhaps one that doesn’t involve the slaughtering of outlaws?” Jas sticks her tongue out at the balding man, smiling when Gisborne disguises his laugh as a cough. They continue forward a mile more, the woods all looking the same to Jas. “Robin! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“He must love the sound of his voice.”

“That’s an understatement,” Gisborne returns as Vaisey continues his taunting. “It’s a shame I have to invite him to the wedding. Honestly, I’d be happy if you were the only witness to the whole thing.”  _And I’d be happy if I could stop these stupid feelings, but we don’t always get what we want_.

“Yeah, well, your first wedding is supposed to be a huge spectacle.”

“Stand!” At the shout, Jas turns her head and spots two of Hood’s men a few yards away, Much having a bow raised and pointed in their direction. “Stand or we will make you look like pin cushions!”

“Sweetie, you’re surrounded!”

“Last warning!”

“Gisborne,” Vaisey wonders,” how many street rats are out there?”

“A dozen or so,” Gisborne guesses, his gaze constantly moving to try and find the others. The number in Hood’s group rarely changed and Jas was certain most of them would be hiding behind rocks like Much and Little John had been. “And that’s only counting the inner circle.”

“How many circles do they have, exactly?” Gisborne shrugs and Vaisey seems less than confident at the news, looking around suspiciously. “We’re not here to negotiate!” A pause and then Vaisey slumps in his saddle. “Why aren’t they running away in fear?”

“Because you’re not scary,” Jas suggests, shrugging nonchalantly at Vaisey’s dirty look.

“No, you twit, it’s because their leader is in that cave. You lot, go and kill them for me before it gets really boring.” The soldiers move into position, readying their weapons and about to shoot when an arrow whistled through the air and lodged itself into one of the soldier’s chests, knocking him to the ground. “Shoot Hood!” Hood was just outside the cave, readying another arrow.

“So, are you sure I can’t wear PJ’s to your wedding?”

“Absolutely certain,” Gisborne confirms as arrows begin to fly on both sides. Jas wasn’t worried and she kept moving Tug in zig-zag patterns to keep her from getting hit.  _One of those people hit my horse and there’ll be hell to pay_. Beside her, Vaisey tumbles to the ground, a hand over his mouth as he searched for a tooth that had been knocked out. Frowning, Jas ducks as an arrow shoots over her head, embedding itself into a man behind her. “And no getting drunk the night before either, Took.”

“Then what the hell are we supposed to do for you bachelor party?” She couldn’t get him drunk, there were no strippers around to give him a free lap dance, and he’d protested her idea of supergluing Vaisey to the ceiling. A man comes running out of the cave, waving something white in his hand and shouting. “Who’s that nut job?”

“A liability,” Gisborne growls, narrowing his eyes at the man. “He’s served his purpose and now it’s time to dispose of him.”

“You got it.” The man slides to a halt a few feet away, arms in the air in a  _don’t shoot_  gesture, and his expression pleading for mercy. Without a second’s hesitation, Jas uses her magic to break the man’s neck and sends him flying away from them.

“Second line, move forward!” The next wave of soldiers moves on Gisborne’s command, taking the place of the dead ones littering the ground. Four outlaws charge down the slope with swords drawn, letting out war cries that made Vaisey hide behind his gelding.

“This is suicide,” he calls out, voice higher than usual.  _This is Hood’s last stand, I hope_. Hood, Much, Djaq, and John hit the soldiers at a dead sprint, their swords clanging and sparks flying as metal clashes with metal. “What do we do, what do we do?!”

“You cower like a baby and I’ll watch on in amusement,” Jas grins, earning a growl of irritation from the Sheriff. Fights like this always made her feel giddy, the adrenaline rush getting her heart to beating faster. She felt even more energized as another arrow narrowly misses Gisborne’s neck, coming from behind them. Will and Allan were charging from behind, late to the party, but ready for the fight all the same.

“Get me out of here!”

“Get back,” Gisborne shouts when it becomes clear they would be overwhelmed. “Back to the castle!” Vaisey hurries up onto his horse, the first to gallop away from the skirmish with Gisborne and Jas behind him, though Gisborne had to grab Tug’s reigns to keep the Ranger from staying behind.

“Those bastards shot a tooth out of my mouth!”

“You’re lucky they didn’t have better aim or they could have taken your life.” Vaisey grumbles at that, all of them studiously ignoring each other until they were back in Vaisey’s chambers. “How are we going to kill Hood before he’s summoned by King Richard?”

“We don’t have to since the King’s not actually coming back.” Vaisey pauses and looks up, quirking up a brow. “Oh, right, I didn’t tell you that part. Well, I’ve arranged for an imposter to come in and pretend to be the King so that he can write down the names of all those against us.”

“But Marian—”

“Who cares about Marian? The point is that we can use the list of names gathered and punish their families until they are little more than bugs under a rock, Gisborne.”

“Wow, you really aren’t a complete dunce,” Jas mutters, crossing her arms and nodding along to the plan. “Use those families as examples to what could happen to others, show the peasants and Lords alike that we aren’t afraid to be cruel to those that undermine us no matter their status.”

“You see, Took understands. And the best part is that none of those morons have ever seen the King, so we could have the town idiot come in and they’d never know the difference!”

“And why didn’t you tell me,” Gisborne demands with a dark look. “Why did you lie to me from the beginning?”

“Oh, get over it. You’re a big boy last time I checked and, honestly, you should’ve expected it.” He turns to Took and holds out his arms for inspection. “I don’t look trustworthy, do I?” Jas shakes her head, still seeing him as the witch in the gingerbread house, garter belts and all.

“What if Marian’s father is one of the men?”

“Then he’ll hang like the others!” Gisborne closes his eyes and Jas knew he was trying to think through everything, attempting to find a solution where everyone could live happily ever after.  _A Romantic if I’ve ever seen one_.

“I’m going to talk to Marian, Took you go back to Locksley and make sure everything’s going to plan.”

“Aye, aye,” Jas nods, following him out of the room to the stables where their horses were resting. “Hey, you be careful.” She rests a hand on his leg after he’s in his saddle, running her thumb over the smooth material of his pants. “Guard that heart of yours.”

“Thank you, Took. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

“Crash and burn, but let’s not focus on that.” She grins, climbing up on Tug and urging her to follow Gisborne’s stallion out of the stables. “Good luck, Gilly.”

“I don’t need any luck with this face.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Chapter title is part of Aragorn's battle speech and I thought it would tie in nicely with the whole 'Return of the King' thing. 
> 
> "Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me! A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of Men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you stand! Men of the West!" ~Aragorn


	53. The Night Before

Gisborne was staring into the flames with an expression of absolute worry on his face, something Jas wasn't accustomed to seeing there. "What if we're not ready for this?" Jas rolls her eyes and sits up in her chair.

“Give me your feet,” she demands, gesturing for him to hurry up when he just stares at her. Biting his lip, he lifts one bare foot and rests it on one of her knees, brows knitting together when she takes it in her hands and gives a gentle squeeze. “Hmm, interesting.”

“What? What is it, Took?” She makes a show of inspecting his foot, running the tip of one finger up the sole to make his toes wiggle from the tickle. After a moment and some more noises of interest she rests a hand on his ankle and meets his worried gaze.

“Just what I thought, that’s all; warmest feet I’ve ever had the pleasure of feeling.” He looked confused and a bit miffed now, like she had wasted his precious time. “They’re not cold, so obviously you’re not having second thoughts, hon. Now, what’s eating at you tonight apart from the little white lie about King Richie?”

“What if she won’t have me?” The gentle smile that had been growing is swiftly replaced by a frown, Jas watching as Gisborne’s blue eyes focus back on the fire. He looks paler than usual and she could see a slight tremor of nerves in his hands. She didn’t like it one little bit. “What if she changes her mind?”

“I’m sure Marian wouldn’t be cruel enough to do that.” She left out the whole  _she loves you, bro_  speech because the idiot’s in love with the outlaw, but Jas couldn’t leave him down here to brood. “Look, you are going to get up in the morning and dress in your finest clothes, you are going to drag my lazy ass out of bed and bitch at me until I’m decent, and then we’re going to that church to inspect every small, insignificant detail together. Do you know what’ll happen after that?”

“Marian will become my wife….?” He seemed so unsure and it tugged at her heart, cold and tiny though it is.

“That’s right.”

“What if she doesn’t, though?”

“If she dumps you before the wedding, then I’ll personally slap the white right off of her.”  _I still might if I’m around too long after the_ _marriage_. He lets out a shocked laugh at that, cerulean eyes gleaming in amusement as he finally looks back at Jas. “I’ll make you a bet if you’re so worried: If everything goes right tomorrow, then you can’t be unhappy for an entire week.”

“Two days.”

“Don’t you argue with me, boy.” She gives him her best Mom look and he gets the hint not to mess with her. “And if there’s some sort of unforeseen hitch, then I can’t call you Gilbert for a week.” He takes a minute to think the deal over before giving a nod and leaning forward to shake her hand. “Feel better now?”

“Much.” She nods and shoves his foot off her lap, standing up before she crosses the room. She got all the way to the stairs before Gisborne calls out to her. “You know how hard it is for me to express my thanks, don’t you?” With one hand on the handrail, she looks at him over her shoulder and winks.

“You can thank me by having a good time tomorrow. Oh, Gilly? Get to bed soon because you don’t want to look like absolute shit on your wedding day. Dark circles and a grouchy attitude aren’t memories you want for the special occasion.”

“Goodnight, Took.”

“Quick question, are you sure I can’t wear my jammies tomorrow?” The look he sends her is all she needs to know. “Right, stupid question, of course I can’t.”


	54. Pre-Wedding Nerves

Jas has had rude awakenings before, but she’s never been thrown over someone’s shoulder and then tossed into a steaming bath without even a warning or a  _how do you do_. She breaks the surface, coughing and sputtering much to the guard’s amusement. With a growl, she climbs out of the tub and decks him, watching in satisfaction as he topples over. At the commotion, Gisborne comes into the room, bare-chested and half-asleep.

“I’m gonna kill someone,” Jas gasps, holding her arms away from her body as the water dripped off of her. Guy had an expression of complete shock on his face, the same one Jas had when her cousin used a modified cattle prod on Dash that caused her twin to jump three feet in the air. Grumbling under her breath, Jas pulls off the ruined clothes and changes into a lilac dress with a nice pair of white heels. “You need something or are you just enjoying the view?”

"I'm getting married today," he states, looking at Jas as though expecting to see the same bewilderment on her face.

"The grass is green and Tug doesn't like Bassy," Jas returns as they move down the stairs and into the kitchen, a servant handing her a cup of coffee. Guy just gives her a dry look and she shrugs. "What? Are we not pointing out the obvious?"

"You could at least pretend to be excited." Jas gives him a peppy smile and starts talking in a Valley Girl accent.

"Like, oh my gawd, you're totally getting married toda—” She drops it with a shake of her head. "Yeah, sorry, I can't be excited before six in the morning, Gilly. Come talk to me around noon or so and we'll be in business." He takes her cup and drinks from it before handing it back to her. “What time are we going to check over the church?”

“I’ve already been. I’m just here now to get changed and to wake you up.”

“Well, your guard did a good job of waking me up.” She used her magic to dry and style her hair for that morning. The black curls hanging down her back loosely. “Come on, let’s get you dressed before you catch a cold.”  _And before I run into a wall because I was looking at your abs_.

“I’ll have the idiot fired for that, don’t worry.” She wasn’t worried, but her stomach was churning as she realized just how close the wedding was. Just an hour or so from now and she’d be witnessing Gisborne’s lips on another woman’s.  _Maybe I should just go back to Hell and find a job there_.

In Gisborne’s room, he pulls on his usual clothing and brushes his hair quickly, his hands shaking as he buttons up his leather jerkin. She leans against one of his bedposts, watching him as he begins to pace. “Maybe you could wear something lighter for today?” She moves to his wardrobe and digs around, finding nothing useful except for a bit a chainmail that clasps around his neck, a dark red instead of his usual yellow. “Here, this’ll work.”

Gisborne seems not to hear her, too worked up to realize she had rooted around. Jas tries to lay a supportive hand on Gisborne's shoulder as he continues to pace his bedroom, still worrying about the morning to come. She's never seen him this anxious before, chewing his thumbnail and running the fingers of his other hand through his hair, mussing the thick locks.

"I can't do this by myself, Took," he murmurs from around his thumb, shaking his head with another grumble. "What's the point of it all? I have no family to share with Marian."

"I'm gonna ignore you just said that," Jas states with a dry look, forcing him to sit on the edge of his bed while she stood in front of him.

“I’ve not had enough time to plan everything out to the last detail and I’ll have no support for the actual event—”

"You have my support all the way through your wedding, Gilbert, but if the Rains of Castamere starts playing, I'm out." He arches a brow at that and she gestures towards the doorway. "I'll be moving at the speed of light; cha-cha real smooth right the fuck outta that church."

“What am I doing?” She moves to sit behind him, replacing the yellow mail with the red one and carefully clasping it shut, letting her hands rest on his shoulders afterwards. She didn’t want to let go of him, an urge to claim him as her own nearly overpowering her common sense.  _He’s not mine and he never has been, so grow a set. Gisborne’s heart is in Marian’s hands right now_.

“You’re going to marry a beautiful woman that you love.” He goes tense under her hands for a moment, then turns so he can see her, her hands dropping to her lap. His pale eyes don’t meet hers for a bit, then they lock and she gasps at the intensity there; it was like he had her shackled in place, unable to move under that gaze.

“What’s my favorite fruit?”

“Y-You prefer vegetables to fruit. Did you hit your head this morning and can’t remember or…?”

“What’s my favorite thing to do in the evenings?”

“Read by the fire downstairs or play a game.” She shrugs, not seeing a point to any of these questions. If they helped to calm him down, then she’d go along with it for as long as he wanted.

“Wh-What about my childhood pet?”

“A small puppy you and your sister rescued, all black with a white tail, and you named her Daisy.” He closes his eyes, reaching out blindly and grasping her hands in his. It was like he was holding on for dear life, his breaths little more than gasps.

“Tell me I’m doing the right thing in marrying Marian.”

“I can’t.” He looks up and she knows he can see the tears gathering in her eyes. “Only you can make that decision, Gilly. I’ll meet you at the church.” She rises from the bed, hesitating a moment before bending down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I hope you figure out what you need to.”


	55. A Knockout Wedding

After changing into a dark blue high-low dress because a passing servant as spilled wine down the front of her lilac one, Jas dashes through Locksley and over to the church where Gisborne was waiting anxiously. “Sorry,” she pants as she reaches him, quickly slipping on a pair of black heels that made her even with him in height,” I had a little problem with my other dress and had to change.”

“It doesn’t matter, Marian’s not here yet.”

“Did you find any answers you were seeking earlier?” He nods, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Jas’s ear. The very tips of his fingers brush against her and she can’t suppress a shiver, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She missed the feel of his hands on her, the way they made her feel like her skin was on fire.

“Here she is.” Jas swallows hard when she feels him leave her, breathing deeply a few times before she’s able to gather her courage and join the other two. Marian looked as beautiful as ever in cloth-of-gold, the skirts of it trailing behind her and the white of her veil obscuring her face.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t catch him in time, My Lady.” With a forced smile, she takes one of Gisborne’s arms and pulls him towards the church. “I’ve found that men are often a little dumb on their wedding and this one is only proving my point.” Gisborne’s brows furrow as he looks down at her.

“She’s right, I’m afraid,” Marian agrees softly from her spot on Gisborne’s right. “My mother always said it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“And we don’t want to risk any bad luck, so come on.” Jas tugs on his arm until Gisborne follows her of his own accord, both of them walking under the wooden arch decorated with flowers and ribbons, and entering the church.

“Lord Edward is at the castle,” Gisborne mutters, nodding for one of the young boys to run out and ring the church bell. “It appears that Vaisey was right all along.”

“Are you surprised?” She gives his arm a squeeze of encouragement, then moves to the first pew of the left, the groom’s side where hardly anyone else would be sitting today. “You can do this, Guy.”

“If you say so.” He sighs, staring ahead of him at the wall as everyone fills inside. Marian comes in next, she and Gisborne kneeling before the portly priest and staring up at him as he begins to speak. Jas fights to keep her expression neutral as she watches on, not understanding a word that was spoken but getting the idea of it.

“Stop the wedding,” comes a desperate cry from behind them, everyone turning to see Much in the doorway and pulling on the rope that caused the bell to ring. “Stop this wedding! He’s not the real King!” Jas nods at the guards situated throughout the room, two of them moving to drag Much out of the room.

“It does not matter if the King is in Nottingham,” the priest admonishes. “It has nothing to do with this wedding and you should be ashamed of yourself for interrupting.” Jas’s sensitive ears can pick up Marian’s whisper, but not exactly what she’d said.  _She’s going to do something rash_. She felt bad at the prickle of happiness of what Marian might do, but the faint smile appears all the same.

“He went to the Holy Land and tried to murder our King!” Marian rises suddenly, Gisborne grabbing her arm to keep her in place.

“Your father will be safe,” he promises, not bothering to keep his voice lowered anymore,” I have made provisions. Marry me and he will be protected for the rest of his life.”

“This is wrong!” Torn between watching the drama play out or helping her friends, Jas lets out a hiss and moves quickly down the aisle and grabs Much by the front of his shirt, dragging him out of the church. “You know this is wrong, Took!”

“I have no control over it,” she snarls at him, pushing him backwards. The tears were stinging her eyes and she could see the same heartbreak in Much’s blue eyes, though his was for his friend. “I am no happier about this than you are.”

“Then why can’t you try to stop it? Gisborne will listen to you!”

“Just…. Just stay here so I don’t have to hurt you.” Wiping the tears off her cheeks, she moves back into the church in time to see the ring being slid onto Marian’s finger. Jas’s legs almost gave out from under her, her breath hitching in her throat. “Oh no,” she whispers, watching as Marian slowly slid the ring back off.

“This ring must go on the left hand,” the priest states angrily.

“Don’t do it.” Jas moves quickly down the aisle and catches Marian’s wrist before she could punch Gisborne, Marian letting out a gasp of pain as Jas pushes her away. “Try it, you bitch.” Marian, in a moment of blind rage, tries to swing again, but Jas bends backward before catching the wrist and allowing her own fist to connect with the other woman’s mouth.

Her lip bleeding, Marian sends one last look at everyone before running out of the church, Gisborne and Jas racing after her. They stop in the doorway of the church, watching Marian climb on a horse behind Hood and gallop off for the castle, Much running after them while the guests flood outside to watch it.

Jas could feel Gisborne stiffen when she wrapped her arms around his middle, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. “What on earth are you doing,” he asks, looking down at her with a raised brow. She doesn’t respond for a moment, giving a quiet sigh as she tried to think up a reason. In all honesty, she’d hugged him because of how downtrodden he’d appeared, like a puppy that had just been kicked by its owner. She couldn’t very well tell him that, though because it would wound his manly pride.

“It’s called a hug, Guy,” she explains dryly,” a common occurrence between friends.”

“Are we friends?” Without releasing him, she peers up at him past a few stray curls that fell in front of her eyes.

“We’ve killed together and played I-Spy, if we’re not friends, then I don’t know what we are.” His lips form a genuine smile at that as his arms slowly wrapped around her, pressing her tighter against him in a hug. Being so close to him was nice and she found herself breathing in the familiar scent of leather and sandalwood as she moved one hand up and down his back soothingly.

“You called me Guy earlier.” It was her turn to stiffen in his arms, hearing his teasing tone and desperately wanting to smack him for it. He wasn’t supposed to be the teasing one, that’s been strictly her job since day one.

“Don’t ruin the moment, Gilbert.”


	56. The Five Types of Drunks

The days following the failed wedding were incredibly tense at Locksley Manor, any small mishap setting off Gisborne’s temper. It had gotten to the point where the servants avoided him whenever possible and Jas took to hiding out in her room where Gisborne rarely went or the stables. It all came to a boiling point a week later, Gisborne coming into the kitchen with a glare already on his face.

Jas was growing tired of the whole situation, sipping on coffee and watching him as he growled at the cook to make his breakfast. “Think you could throw a please in there,” she quips, earning a glare sent her way. She just takes another sip with an unimpressed expression, her coffee cup telling Gisborne exactly how she felt.

“Why don’t you keep your nose out of my business,” he snaps back at her, blue eyes bright with his anger and the dark circles under his eyes letting on to the amount of time he spends pacing rather than sleeping. He looked like absolute shit and she hated that it made her angry to see him so torn up over a woman.

“I would, but you seem to have a sick pleasure of dragging me into it.” She took careful pains not to call him Gilbert, remembering her end of the bargain. “Now, I am going to finish my coffee and I am going to get dressed for the day, and then the two of us are going to get _really_ drunk.”

“And why would I want to spend my time with a woman like you, Took?” She gives a little nod, setting her cup down and crossing the kitchen until she was close enough to slam him against the wall behind him, her hands fisted in the material of his leather jerkin.

“You listen to me and you listen good, you got left at the altar and I know it stings, but it wasn’t by me or the servants, it was by that chick that’s in love with a known criminal! I am so sick of seeing you yell at everyone around here, so snap the fuck out of it!” With a glare of her own, Jas lets him go and storm out of the kitchen, only partly aware of Gisborne following her.

“Why would we get drunk?” He was speaking in a normal tone now and Jas threw him a wink over her shoulder as she started up the stairs.

“Because we’re grown adults and that’s how we deal with problems. Plus, you can burn her house down and blame it entirely on the booze!” She runs to her room, not even bothering with shutting her door, setting the cup down and pulling off the pajamas before flinging her wardrobe doors open.

“I don’t have to change, do I?”

“Only if you want.” She knows he’s still in her sitting room, giving her privacy to change into a sequined, mesh dress that had a V-neck and cut out back, a pair of champagne colored pumps, gold leaf earrings, and three rings alongside the ring Gisborne had given her. She picks her coffee cup back up before walking into the sitting room, doing a little twirl for Gisborne to take in everything.

“Where are we going?”

“Tavern, but I’ll be providing the drinks and music.” Not giving him a chance to decline, she grabs his arms and leads him with her out of the house. It didn’t take them long to reach Nottingham Town, a few of the men raising their cups when they spotted Jas walking in. The regulars were used to seeing her, not even their superstitious nature making them weary of her after she’d bought them all a round of beer one night.

“Why do we have to do this, Took?”

“Because I’m tired of you being grumpy all the time. I’m also curious about what kind of drunk you are.” She turns as they enter the backroom, all eyes on her. “Free booze in here for anyone that wants to get really drunk!” Several of the men filed inside and filled the tables, Jas bringing out her iPod to get the music playing.

“Do we need to be surrounded by all these drunkards?”

“Pull the stick out of your ass and have a drink.” She summons a few bottles of liquor and pours all of them shots of Tequila, downing hers with a hiss as it burned her throat. “C’mon, Gilly, you know you want to.”

“Only if it’ll shut you up.” Gisborne mimics her and downs the shot all at once, the glass shattering on the floor as he’s sent into a couching fit. Jas rubs his back sympathetically, realizing this would be the first time he’s had anything like that.

“It’s okay, buddy, you’ll get used to it.” Or maybe he wouldn’t, but she was determined to see what kind of drunk he was; in her experience, there were four kinds: Angry, sad, perverted, and dancing-with-a-lampshade-on-their-head. “ _I am a man of constant sorrow, I’ve seen trouble all my days_ ,” She belts out, another shot glass in hand,”  _I bid farewell to old Kentucky, the place where I was born and raised!_ ”

“ _The place where he was born and raised,_ ” Gisborne continues, choking down another shot just as she did. It was a song from her younger years, one she and her brothers often sang just to annoy Lucifer. “ _For six long years I’ve been in trouble, no pleasure here on earth I’ve found!”_  Jas giggles as Gisborne plops down on a stool, his cheeks already flushed as he grabs for the bottle to pour him more.

“Easy, tiger.”

“I’ll go easy when I’m dead,” he tells her firmly, tipping the bottle back and taking a long pull from it. “ _For in this world I’m bound to ramble, I have no friends to help me now!”_  The smile he sends her way is nothing short of genuine, the booze not allowing him to play false.

“Having fun yet?”

“More t-than I’d thought I’d have.” He nods earnestly, taking another swig and shaking his head before passing her the bottle. “You’re the best bestie a man could ask for. And such a nice person!” After nearly half a bottle of Tequila and nothing else, Gisborne was well and truly drunk, slurring his words. “I don’ care what all those other peoples said, yo-you are my favoritest person in all of- of…. Where are we?”

“Nottingham, Gilly.”

“Yeah, that place!” He topples sideways so that he was half on the stool and half in her lap, grinning up at her. “I’d marry you if I wasn’t afraid you’d burst into flames inside the church. Hey, hey, how’d you keep from burning during that thingy me and Marian had?”

“Good shoes,” she answers dryly.

“Good shoes! You hear that, everyone? She’s got…. She’s got good shoes!” In a fit of giggle, he rolls forwards and face plants the ground, giggling again as Jas gets up and hauls him back to his feet. “Where are we goin’?”

“Upstairs, hon.” He smiles, wrapping his arms around her the best he could as they walked up the rickety stairs, nuzzling her neck in a way that had her shaking. His stubble rasped against the sensitive flesh of her neck and she shrugs his head off of her, laughing when he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

_A loving drunk. Who would’ve thought?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Jas and Gisborne sings is 'Man of Constant Sorrow' by the Soggy Bottom Boys and is off the movie O Brother Where Art Thou.


	57. Hangovers From Hell

Jas looks up as Vaisey and Gisborne exit the council room, her sunglasses keeping the worst of the torchlight out of her eyes. Dressed in only a pair of pajama bottoms and a black hoodie with  _hangover hoodie_  printed on the front, she looked as bad as she felt.  _Now I remember why I don’t drink Tequila_. She felt as if her head was splitting in two and the sound of footsteps made her want a trapdoor to open up beneath her feet.

“We’re expecting an important guest today, so can’t you dress nicely, Took,” Vaisey demands, Jas clutching at her head and hissing her reply.

“Unless it’s Lucifer, I’m staying in my pajamas until noon.”  Gisborne looked just as bad as Jas, but he was completely dressed and squinting in the dark hallway. “We got a job to do or can I go sleep somewhere?”

“Tell her on the way, Gisborne.” Vaisey stalks away from them, Gisborne resting his forehead against her shoulder and giving in to the hangover with a pathetic moan. She rests her head against his, the dark locks of his hair tickling her cheek. They stayed like that for a little while, miserable and wishing they’d just stayed home last night to play a game of Monopoly.

“We’re going to the kitchens, come on.”

“We can’t,” he mumbles, but follows her all the same. They don’t speak until Jas had forced all of the servants to leave the kitchen, bustling around to gather the needed ingredients and a small cauldron to hang over the fire. Sparks dance on her fingertips for a second before she flicked them towards the kindling in the fireplace, the sparks catching on the dry wood and lighting a small fire that would make the ingredients in the cauldron simmer and bubble.

“Bind the aches in the flames,” she whispers as she stirs, watching the potion change from a milky white color to a pale blue,” drain the toxins and heal the wounds. Lucifer aid me in my work here.” To complete the potion, she pricks her finger with her knife and allows two drops of her blood to fall into the cauldron, a small cloud of smoke rising from it in return. She quickly ladles out two cups of it and hands one of them to Gisborne.  He stares at it suspiciously, sniffing at it even as Jas downs hers as quickly as possible.

“What is this and what is it that you said?”

“What, you suddenly can’t speak English?” He gives her a look and it wasn’t until then that she realized she’d probably slipped into the master’s language, a mixture of Enochian and Aramaic. “It’s a healing potion, it’ll take care of the hangover.” He drinks the potion quickly, making a noise of surprise when he finishes.

“Tastes like strawberries.”

“Yeah, it’s my own little contribution to keep it from being foul.” She takes the cup from Gisborne and sets them both on the wooden counter to be washed later before following her friend out of the kitchens and to the courtyard. “So, what’s our mission?”

“We don’t have one right now, Vaisey was just messing with you.” Jas nods in understanding, squinting in the bright sunshine even with her sunglasses in place. “What do you want to do until the meeting later tonight?”

“Sleep mostly.”

“Sleep sounds fantastic.”

* * *

It was close to nine that evening when the knock sounded, Jas reluctantly leaving her chair to go see who it was since the servants were busy preparing a late supper and Gisborne was still snoring on the settee. On the other side of the door is a stout-looking man in a messenger’s uniform, his straight-backed posture and bold stare leading her to think his ego was bigger than the manor house.

“What,” she demands when he doesn’t say anything, quirking up an eyebrow.

“The Sheriff sends for yourself and Sir Guy, M’lady,” he blurts quickly, his gaze no longer so bold now as he focuses it on her pink T-strap pumps. “He wishes to see the both of you as soon as possible.”

“Tell him we’ll get there when we feel like it.” Before the messenger could protest, she slams the door closed and moves back to the sitting room. Gisborne was sound asleep for once, rumbling snores making his chest heave; dark strands of hair rested across closed eyelids, mouth hanging wide open, and the fingers of his right hand were brushing the floor.

“Shall I have dinner put aside, My Lady,” a servant asks behind her.

“Yeah, that’ll be good, Thornton.” Her eyes never left Gisborne’s face, all smooth with no wrinkles or creases that were present when he was awake. Her fingers itched to brush those strands off his face; she wanted to press kisses to his delicate eyelids, to trail her fingers over his forming abs and have those muscled arms wrap around her tightly. Shaking her head, she lets out a sharp sigh and tries to decide the best way to wake him up without getting socked in the jaw.

“A child from Locksley stopped by earlier, I believe he said his name was Danny.”

“Give him a plate of food and send him on his way.”

“Yes, Madam.” She waited until Thornton’s retreating footsteps carried him into the kitchen before she moved a little closer to Gisborne. She had to time this perfectly if she wanted to avoid a powerful fist to the face. Kneeling beside the arm of the settee, she belted out the lyrics to one of her favorite songs and hoped for the best.

“ _So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?_ ” Gisborne jerks awake, his fist flying out on instinct, but his entire body is thrown off balance when Jas dodges and he face-plants the hardwood floor with a grunt. “ _So you think you can love me and leave me to die_ ,” she continues, dancing away from her friend as he pushes himself up off the floor.

“Took,” he grinds out, getting to his feet and dashing after her through the house and out the door.

“ _Oh, baby, can’t do this to me, baby! Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here!_ ”

“Get back here!”

“Come and catch me, slowpoke!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Jas sings is Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen.


	58. Unexpected Visitors

“Are you sure you’re ready to see her again?” Gisborne makes a face, but Took is unable to see it, her back pressed against his chest as he leads the way towards Knighton Hall. “You’ve not had any dealings with her since that catastrophe you called a wedding.”

“I know,” he growls darkly, pale eyes fixed on the large house rising ahead of them. “I’ll be fine. Who knows, I may even enjoy myself.”

“Or you may end up feeling worse than you already do.” She looks at him over her shoulder, Gisborne struck for the hundredth time by her eyes. In the moonlight, they looked almost black, filled to the brim with worry and anxiety and excitement. His fingers twitched against the reigns he held, longing to bury themselves in her thick curls just to see if they were as silky as they looked.

“Keep your thoughts on our task and so will I.” Knowing she wouldn’t win this argument, she gives a curt nod and faces forward again, resting against him like she belonged there. He didn’t want her to move away from him, wanted to press her tighter against him, but he was forced to dismount when they reached Marian’s home, grasping Took lightly and helping her down.

As graceful as she seemed, Took always managed to look awkward when she got off a horse. “Thanks,” she murmurs with that soft, encouraging smile she saved for him, patting his arm before moving to the front door. He and the soldiers join her there, Gisborne banging on the door with his fist as hard as he could as his anger hit him again.

“Sir Edward,” he shouts at the top of his lungs,” Marian, get out here this instant!” He didn’t give them a chance to open the door, kicking it open forcefully and allowing a soldier to go in ahead of him, the man grabbing Edward and holding him with a sword against his throat.

“Sir Guy,” Edward shrieks in a panicked voice,” I will not tolerate this.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Took reminds him with a stare that would’ve made even Vaisey weak at the knees in fear. “You know, if you’d just had more control over that daughter of yours, none of this would be happening.”

“Speaking of daughters,” Gisborne states, turning his gaze up to the ceiling and shouting,” Marian! Come down immediately or I will torch your house!”

“And suddenly I feel like I’m in The Patriot.” Took shakes her head, waving off Gisborne’s exacerbated expression. “Not the time, I know.” She leans against the stair railing, crossing her arms and looking completely at ease despite the rising tension. She was the most beautiful to him in times like this, all grace and sarcasm, the chaos making her cheeks flush with enthusiasm. He wondered if she would look like that in other situations that made the blood race.

 _Not the time, Guy_.

“Marian, answer me! Keep me waiting and I will burn this house to the ground with your father inside it!”

“Ooh, nice touch.”

“I thought so as well.”

“What do you want,” Marian cries as she rushes down the stairs, only stopping when she reaches Gisborne’s side. He knew without looking at her that she would be close to tears, her terrified gaze locked on her father.

“The Sheriff’s ordered that the two of you be brought to the castle so he can keep a closer eye on you.”

“We’re not leaving this house! Can’t you see how frail my father is?”

“Would you rather have a father that still draws breath,” Took demands stepping forward and holding out a hand towards Edward. “It would be so easy to cut off his air and watch him choke to death, Marian, and I wouldn’t feel a thing afterwards.”

“No!”

“Burn the house,” Gisborne command, looking at the two women he’d held in high regard for the better part of a year, the differing expressions making him realize that Took wasn’t as similar to Marian as he’d once thought.

“Please, Sir Guy!”

“Much better, but I want you to beg.” He holds up a hand, the soldier behind him stilling in his task. There was defiance in Marian’s eyes, but it was soon replaced by a dreadful realization that he would have no problems watching them burn to death like the witches of old.

“Sir Guy, I am begging you to spare our house and my father from this.” While Marian looked at odds with herself, Took was smiling that hard smile she gave to those she tortured. She enjoyed seeing the pain and resentment, relished the tremor in their voices, she fed off of it.

“Not bad, but it could’ve been better.” He nods to Took and she uses her magic to move the fire from the soldier’s torch, sending it hurtling towards a curtain where it burst into larger flames. “Out, get them out!” Marian and Edward are dragged outside, Took and Gisborne following behind them with satisfaction blooming in his chest. He’d needed this more than he realized, the revenge leaving him sated for the moment.

He helps Took up on the saddle and climbs on behind her, letting out a faint sigh as she settles back against him. He loved having her this close, her skin cold through the off-shoulder pink top she had on; her chill wasn’t from the weather, she’s always been this temperature and he supposed it was a Ranger thing.

The ride back to Locksley was spent with quiet conversation, the two of them talking about their childhoods and all the quirks that came from it. In fact, it wasn’t until they walked into the sitting room that they fell into silence, confused and awkward; everything in the room had been rearranged to fit a glossy black  _thing_  neatly in the corner with a bench set in front of it.

“What the hell is that,” he asks as they move over to it, Took running her fingers over the ivory-white rectangles that made up part of the behemoth.

“It’s a piano,” she answers him, voice quiet and brows furrowed.

“Did you summon it?”

“Considering the fact that it’s still standing, you should have your answer.” They stare at it for a moment longer, Took pressing in the rectangles and making high notes escape the piano. She sits on the bench, back straight and hands on the ivory, moving over them with a practiced skill to make beautiful music.

“Amazing….”

“ _I see the sadness in your eyes is more than you let on_ ,” she sings, her voice sweet and her eyes closing as she played,”  _they ask where love has gone._   _Was it some magic or a twist, a spell that crossed the stars? Whatever happened, here we are. I gave up hoping oh so long ago, I can’t remember even when, but I wonder could this be the one who’ll make me love again?_ ”  

“ _To love and lose only to love again_ ,” a new voice picks up and Gisborne immediately notices the way Took tenses up,”  _like seasons come and go. It’s what hearts are made for, it’s all we need to know_ ….” Took rises from the bench and sends it flying across the room, the wood shattering against the wall as she spun to face the man. Gisborne follows suit, taking in the man’s high cheekbones and dark, eyes.

“Who the hell are you,” Gisborne snarls, seeing the fear and rage in his friend’s eyes. “Get out!” The man gives a cocky grin, at ease despite the way Gisborne unsheathed his sword and held the tip of the blade under the stranger’s chin.

“Hi,” he greets,” I’m Dash.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is called “Simone’s Song” by Stana Katic.


	59. Dash's Broken Ribs

Seeing Dash again was strange, a mixture of emotions swirling inside of Jas and making her feel such burning agony that just looking at him made her want to lash out and sob all at once. When she saw him, she saw a childhood filled with laughter and an adulthood filled with bitter anger; she wanted to scratch his eyes out, but she also wanted a hug from the first bit of family she’s seen since coming to this realm.

Unfortunately for her twin, the rage won out.

Jas steps to the side and uses her telekinesis to send the piano flying through the air, colliding with Dash before he had to chance to jump out of the way. He crashes to the ground, the piano shattering against him, bits of wood stuck in him. “I’m going to kill you,” she snarls, seeing red as he tries to sit up,” I’m going to make you wish you had never laid eyes on my Garen.” Dash chuckles, standing up spitting out some blood as his wounds begin to heal already.

“You can try, Jasmine, but we both know you’ll only succeed in getting solitary confinement with Cerberus,” he states confidently, smiling through his pain. She leaps forward and tackles the larger Ranger to the ground, her perfectly manicured nails stained silver as she digs them into his throat, keeping her grip tight as his face begins to go from red to purple. She could feel him struggling beneath her, wriggling and bucking, but she had specialized in the power that actually had some use.

“I will have you buried for what you’ve done!” She was so focused on watching the light dim in his eyes that she never noticed the way he pulled his head back until it had already slammed against her own. Pain blooms where they’d connected, but she tried to fight through her daze even as he flipped her over to put her in a headlock.

“You’re not strong enough to win a fight with me, little sister.”

“You’re only—three minutes—older!” She brings her elbow back against his ribs, feeling one crack from the force, then she yanks her elbow back again to drive the rib into his lung. Dash releases her with a hiss of pain, falling fully on the ground and clutching at his side. Jas gets back on her feet, eyes flashing with a horrible rage that had even her twin backing off.

“Easy, Jasmine, we can talk about—” Her foot connects with his face, sending him into unconsciousness.

“You lost all right to talk to me after what you did to my baby.”

“Took…?” She looks at Gisborne, the anger beginning to drain away and leave her with only the sadness that was almost crippling some days. “Oh, come here.” His arms around her waist were the only things keeping her upright, Gisborne holding her tightly as she sobbed against his shoulder. “Thornton, have that man thrown in with the pigs. I don’t want to see him around here again.” There’s a murmured reply and then the only sounds were of Jas’s unrestrained crying.

She felt like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs, suffocating in her own tears as the sharp pains of anguish pierced her chest. She couldn’t deal with this again; she couldn’t face the absolute heartache that Dash would stir up.

“Shh, it’s alright, I’ve got you.” She doesn’t remember much else about that night, but one thing that’ll stand out in her mind for the rest of her days was the way Gisborne never left her side, never released her from his arms even hours after she’d fallen asleep.

**Yeah, I know that it’s short, but I mainly wanted to write the fight scene.**


	60. Southern Charm

Gisborne was confused when he first woke up, wondering why he wasn’t in his bedroom until he looked down and saw Took half-lying on him. Her curls tickled his nose, but he loved the way she fit against him with the fingers of her left hand tangled in his hair. He didn’t want to move yet, relaxing his muscles and rubbing Took’s back soothingly.

Memories of the night before came back to him slowly and he found himself growing angry that Took’s twin had the gall to show his face after what he’d done to her. The other Ranger should have been killed for what he did, but Dash didn’t even seem concerned that he had the murder of a baby on his conscious.

“How is it you already look so serious and you haven’t even gotten out of bed yet?” He looks down at the question, finding Took looking up at his with a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “Relax, the asshole won’t be here for long if my master planned everything correctly.”

“What happened to the anger,” he asks, quirking up a brow as she flexes the fingers she has in his hair. She didn’t seem too worried about where they were and mildly amused at the shiver she caused to race down his spine when he felt her fingers brushing the nape of his neck.

“It comes and goes, but I’m just exhausted right now. I figure I should save my strength until I find a loophole that’ll allow me to remove his demented head from his shoulders.” Took lets out a yawn and sits up in bed, stretching with her arms over her head and her back arched appealingly.

“I wish I had your control over my emotions.” She snorts and winks at him, stretching out her legs until they were on one of the pillows. This close to her feet, he could probably count the little yellow dots that stood out against the white polish.

“Gilly, it’s gonna take every bit of strength I possess not to throw more furniture at my twin when I see him later.”

“About that, the twin thing, I thought you lot were supposed to be identical.”

“Dash and I are fraternal twins.” He makes a sound of understanding, sitting up with his back pressed against the headboard. “So, how’d you sleep last night?” He shrugs, rubbing at his jaw and noting that he’d need to shave before they went to the castle.

“Better than I usually do.” No nightmares, no gut wrenching fear that all of this had been a cruel dream and that he’d open his eyes to find himself as a scrawny sixteen year old. “Perhaps I just needed someone warm beside me.”

“Same here.” She’d barely moved once she passed out last night, a few whimpers every now and then, but mainly she stayed asleep and clung to him. “I guess I should go put on some clothes and get ready for the day.” Gisborne waits until she’s left before getting out of bed, pulling off yesterday’s trousers and pulling on fresh clothes. He angles his mirror up so that he can see what he’s doing, lathering up his cheeks and then using his straight razor carefully to remove the stubble.

There was a noise down the hall, but he knew it was only Took stumbling around trying to get dressed without falling on her face. After washing the excess soap off his face, he pats it dry and runs his fingers through his hair to tame it. It was getting long, the ends almost brushing his shoulders, and he would need one of the servants to trim it soon.

“Or maybe Took can do a better job,” he mutters with a grimace, remembering how lopsided his hair had ended up last time. Shaking his head, he makes his way out of his room at the same time as Took, waiting on her to reach his side before starting down the stairs with her.

“I need coffee or today might be the day that I punch Vaisey in the throat,” she moans pathetically, smiling all the same when Gisborne can’t quite stifle his chuckle. Waiting for them in the sitting room is her brother, his back to them as he held out a hand where the piano had been set the night before.

“What is he—” Gisborne cuts himself off as he witnesses one of the strangest things he’s ever seen before. Lines of gold were swirling around Dash’s fingers, slowly gaining speed and glittering in the sunlight as they float outward and begin to coalesce, letting out a near-blinding flash before floating to the ground with a new piano in their place.

“He specialized in summoning things.” She shrugs, moving further into the room and roughly shouldering past her brother to run a hand over the smooth, dark wood. “One time he summoned an elephant in our living room.”

“Our mother nearly croaked,” Dash adds with an arrogant grin. “I figured another one of these would make you happy, Jasmine.”

“Your head on a silver platter would make me jump for joy.” They share a smile, looking far too much alike for Gisborne’s liking. He could see the animosity brewing between the pair, but he could also see the restraint that kept them from throwing more furniture at each other. “We’re going to the castle this mornin’.”

“That the headquarters around here?”

“Only if you’re against the outlaws.”

“I’m sure you’d just love me to take a stroll through Sherwood and meet me some of ‘em outlaws.”

“It would be the highlight of my day.” Another exchange of sugary sweet smiles and Gisborne found himself wondering if this was what Took had meant when she said people raised in the South had figured out polite ways to tell others to jump off cliffs.

Southern charm, indeed.


	61. Arresting a Thief

“You’re wearing a black shirt,” Jas accuses as she and her brother wait out in the hallway, arms crossed over their chests. “I thought you hated black shirts.”

“It’s Wednesday,” Dash shrugs,” you should always wear black on Wednesdays.” Jas makes a face, but doesn’t respond, picking absently at a loose thread on her short galaxy skirt. “Hold up, you’re wearing a black shirt, too.” Jas gives him a sardonic smile before mimicking his answer.

“It’s Wednesday.” He rolls his eyes, both of them straightening up as Gisborne and Vaisey come out of the office, Vaisey storming off. “What crawled up his ass?”

“Same as usual when it’s not Hood,” Gisborne says with a sigh, gesturing for the siblings to follow him. Jas had always thought she and Gisborne were in perfect synch with each other, but it’s not until Dash falls into step beside her that she realizes Gisborne was missing the special litheness that comes with being a Ranger. “Come on, I’ve heard a rumor that one of the outlaws has taken up a table in your favorite tavern.”

“Jasmine doesn’t drink,” Dash says automatically, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “She hasn’t since Master caught her and delivered fifty lashes to her bare back.” Jas winces at the memory, remembering the stinging pain that accompanied every stroke of the whip.

“What do you mean?” Gisborne comes to a standstill, brows furrowed over his eyes. “Surely your uncle wouldn’t go so far as that?”

“He’s not a big ol’ softy like she says, she’s just used to defending him because she’s his chosen.”

“His what?” Gisborne turns his gaze to Jas and is surprised to find her blushing and staring down at her feet. “Took, what’s he talking about?”

“Our master is there when his nobles are born,” she explains quietly,” it was no different for Dash’s and my births either.” She shrugs, focusing intently on her ankle boots instead of meeting anyone’s gaze. “You see, his blood runs through the veins of the nobility, we are all literally his descendants and so he always chooses one person of every generation to claim as his family.”

“And he chose you.”

“Mom said I cried a lot after I was born, but the second he took me in his arms, I got all quiet; he decided that was a sign and claimed me as his niece. He might have claimed my son had Garen not taken so much after his father.” She shakes her head, pushing those thoughts out of her head and starting down the hall again. “It doesn’t matter; I was still banished to the cottage.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Gisborne and Dash fall into step with her again and she cursed their long legs.

“Because it wasn’t relevant, it still isn’t.” She didn’t consider herself as Lucifer’s chosen anymore, she was just another of his pawns because of one drunken mistake when she was a child. “Can we just get this task over with or are you hell-bent on unraveling my family history?”

“I would know everything about you, Took.” It was the sincerity in his tone that made her stop and look at him, finding herself lost in those blue eyes of his. She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, just watching each other, but Dash thoroughly ruined the moment by clearing his throat loudly.

“Sorry to break this up,” he says without an ounce of apology in his tone,” but don’t we have somewhere to be?” Scowling, Jas delivers a hard punch to her brother’s shoulder and storms off down the hallway, quickly making her way down the stairs and into the courtyard. She knew where she was going and it would be nice to have some time by herself.

It seemed like Gisborne had been beside her every second since Marian had left him at the altar, and she was growing fed up with the closeness. Did he not know how badly she wanted to take him in her arms? Did he not see the way her heart broke each and every time he smiled her way and she knew she could never have him?

She bites her lip to keep it from wobbling, blinking the tears away and focusing on the task at hand. That’s how she would get through this, she would start focusing on the job and the way to returning to her cottage, and she would lock her emotions away behind a steel wall. For her own heart’s sake, she wouldn’t allow her emotions to overcome her common sense.

She just couldn’t this time.

It doesn’t take too long for them all to reach the tavern, people parting like the Red Sea as the trio move inside and head straight for the table that had people crowded around it. The crowd disperses pretty fast for a bunch of drunks, and Gisborne settles down in the chair across from Allan as Jas and Dash position themselves on either side of the thief.

“Fancy a bet,” he asks, pocketing his coin and then looking up. Jas and Dash grin down at Allan, resting a hand on each of his shoulders to keep him from bolting. “Don’t suppose you’d let me go if I gave you half of my earnings?”

“Not a chance,” Jas states, she and Dash hauling him upwards and away from the table. Allan looks at them over his shoulder, then does a double take as he recognizes a few of Jas’s features in Dash’s face.

“I’m not being funny or anything, but did you know this guy could be your twin?” Jas and Gisborne share a darkly amused look, Gisborne pushing Allan out of the tavern and down the street.

“So I’ve been told.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated much lately, my uncle was really sick and he passed away a couple of days ago, so I haven't really felt like writing.


	62. The Consequences of Fighting

It was hot outside and Jas was suddenly grateful that she'd chosen a short skirt and tank top today instead of the jeans she'd laid out the night before. Two small children were being marched into the market ahead of them by guards as a ploy to get Robin Hood in the open and capture him. _After all, what person with a heart could resist rescuing two adorable, seemingly innocent, kids?_

Vaisey and the rest of them come to a stop just in front of Vaisey's sister, Davina, cleverly disguised with a few prosthetics and a wig, bound to a stake in the middle of the market. "My dear people," Vaisey addresses the crowd," these two young bandits in front of you thought that they could escape punishment because of their age. Is that to be allowed?"

"No," Dash answers like he was told to earlier, crossing his arms over his chest and allowing his silver wrist cuff to flash in the sunlight. It was a masculine version of the one Jas wore, Celtic knotting taking the place of an emerald. "And the guard who allowed their mother to take a punishment instead will be killed right after this."

"That's right, Dash. For their punishment, I think it's fitting that the kids lose a hand." Gasps and whispers ripple throughout the crowd, a few of the women covering their faces and turning away in disgust while Vaisey's sister wails overdramatically. Jas really hated the sound of wailing women, usually disappearing the second someone starts crying to avoid the uncomfortable position of patting their shoulders. "Listen to this motherly compassion, isn't it just so sweet? Bring out the table."

"Come on, Jasmine." She and Dash move together and move a wooden table a few feet from the two kids, undoing the metal braces that would bind their hands to the table. "Are you sure that bleeding heart of yours will allow you to watch this?" Without missing a beat, Jas drives her elbow hard into her brother's stomach and continues to walk over to Gisborne.

"Feel better," he asks in a whisper, blue eyes moving around the crowd to spot any familiar faces.

"It wasn't as great as hitting him with a piano, but it was nice," Jas confirms with a grim smile as Dash joins them. Each child has one hand secured by the metal bindings, the guards stepping away from their struggling forms as Vaisey begins to babble on again. It seemed he loved the sound of his own voice because there were days where he'd force Gisborne and Jas to listen to him drone on and on about nothing in particular.

Two arrows embed themselves into the table, drawing everyone's gaze up to a lone figure on the thatched roof of a house. "Touch those children and there's an arrow here for you, Sheriff," Hood promises loudly.

Jas and Dash share a bored look before facing the vagrant again, Jas making a snapping motion with her wrist that caused Hood to fall to the ground, his bow skittering out of his reach. As Hood was struggling to regain his senses, Dash holds out a hand, summoning rope in a dazzling display of golden light, allowing Jas to take control and use her telekinesis to wind the rope around Hood tightly.

"We work so well together," Dash sighs, holding up a hand expectantly. Jas raises her brows at him, her derision clear in her eyes.

"I don't high-five psychopaths," she states as the guards move to drag Hood back to the castle and two more release the children and Davina.

"According to the psychologist I was seeing in Russia, I'm a sociopath with narcissistic personality disorder and delusions of grandeur." He frowns and shakes his head, looking to Jas like she was a simple child that barely understood the common tongue. "No clue where he got the last one, though."

"I have a few ideas."

"How rude." Jas scoffs, jogging to catch up with Gisborne while Dash followed languidly behind them. Unlike several Rangers she knew, Dash thought he was Lucifer's gift to the world, all haughty arrogance and a sense of entitlement. _He's a step above Charles Manson, to be honest_.

"So, that went better than expected."

"Aye," Gisborne agrees, keeping the majority of his attention on the crowd that parted to let them pass. "Perhaps a little too well."

* * *

 

"Can't you just let me slip out, Took," Allan pleads, sweating and bleeding from the beatings he's sustained since being brought here. "I won't tell anyone that you helped me."

"I only help kids," Jas replies without looking away from her nails, carefully blowing on them to make the polish dry.

"I act like a kid most of the time." She just holds her hands up, loving the way her pink polish glittered in the torchlight. She was vain about a few things and her nails were number two on that list, right under her hair, and she'd be damned if she let some stupid outlaw keep her from having a perfect manicure. "Please, Took—"

"Stop the whining or I'll remove your vocal cords with this nail file." She holds it up threateningly, though the little penguins along the handle may have diminished the effect. "Dash, what's goin' on up there?!"

"Looks like they're chasin' someone," he hollers back, his head poked out the door of the dungeons. He comes back down the stairs and points over his shoulder with his thumb. "Who the hell is the Night Watchman?"

"The biggest asshole on this side of Sherwood. Come on, you twit, let's see if we can clothesline the fucker." _Figures that the Watchman would pop up right as we seemed to have things scheduled perfectly_. Dash and Jas run through the halls, following the sounds of chainmail until they nearly run right into a group of guards led by Gisborne, the hall a familiar one. "Hey, this is where Marian was nearly shot."

"Really," Gisborne snaps," you felt the need to bring that up _now?_ " Frowning, Gisborne moves forward cautiously, chancing a glance up and spotting the lithe form of the Watchman perched on one of the beams that support the overhang. "Remember my last parting gift to you?" He holds up the small, curved dagger he'd used to stab the Watchman last time, the person in question flipping down and landing in front of them.

After a curt nod from Gisborne, Jas waves her hand and the Watchman is thrown against the wall, landing on the floor with a grunt. Amused at how easy it had been, she moves to gloat only to have a booted foot connect with her stomach, driving her backwards as the Watchman regains his footing.

"I bet that bruised your ego," Dash smirks, but it disappears when he's coldcocked and sent tumbling against the guards.

"And that knocked you off your high horse," Jas bites back as the Watchman jumps over the stone ledge and down to the courtyard.

"Don't just stand there and argue with your brother," Vaisey yells as he rounds the corner at the other end of the hall," get the bastard!"

"Well, since you asked so nicely." She jumps up onto the banister and then allows herself to fall forward towards the ground, using her telekinesis to slow the fall and allow her to land on her feet. "Come here, ya little shit." The Watchman outstretches his arms, Jas tensing to spring forward only to stumble slightly at Gisborne's shout.

"He's mine, Took!"

"You're no fun." Jas moves a few feet to the side, inspecting her nails again as Gisborne swings his sword at the Watchman's middle, narrowly missing as the other man jumps back, and sent stumbling when he's kicked in his stomach. "You want any help, Gilly?"

"Just do your bloody job!"

"Oh, he's talking British to me. You keep doing that and I won't be held responsible for my actions." She sends him a suggestive wink before punching the Watchman square in the face, more of her anger burning away as she continues the assault. Hand-to-hand combat had never been her strong suit, but she found no problems in holding off a human that was close to her own size.

"If I knew it'd cause that reaction, then I might have tried it sooner."

"We'll have plenty of time to discuss all that after I have the Watchman's head on a spike outside the castle." Jas grunts as she takes a blow to the chest, knowing she'd have a nasty bruise there later, but not caring as she jumps and twists in the air to deliver a kick to the side of the Watchman's head.

The Watchman stumbles back a few feet, looking at the blocked off exit and then sprinting for the steps that lead into a tower. "What the hell is he doing now?"

"He's creating a distraction," Vaisey snarls, head peaking up from behind one of Dash's broad shoulders. Jas, Gisborne, and a few of their guards sprint after the Watchman, following him up the stairs and out the door that leads to the top of the tower only to find it empty.

"All this way up and he's disappeared into thin air. Why can't we catch even a single break?"

"Well," Jas gasps, hands on her knees as she hunches forward," we _have_ cut out the tongues of innocent people, blown up a couple of guys, planned the murder of a King, and there was that one weird plot where we used that chicken for bait."

"Remind me to never ask another rhetorical question around you, Took." She gives a nod at that, letting her head fall forward. What she saw next made her anger return with a vengeance, straightening up and giving a hellacious scream to the heavens. "What is it?"

"That little bastard made me chip my nails!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I’m still alive and I think I’m starting to get over the writer’s block for this story!


	63. Keep Your Heart Here With Mine

After Hood’s escape in the marketplace, Gisborne sends Took back to Locksley to tend to her nails and say goodbye to her twin. Dash would be leaving for London to be Prince John’s private guard, taking Bastet with him despite Took’s open hostility about the choice. Gisborne was just happy that he wouldn’t have to worry about the damn cat tripping him on the stairs anymore because there was no dignified way to fall head over heels.

Plus, that would mean he’d no longer have to worry about the random times of the day where Took would either attempt to murder her twin or vice versa. It was bad enough when she threw an entire piano at her brother, but cutting his throat at the dinner table was taking it too far.

 _That tablecloth will never be white again_.

Shaking his head, he makes his way down into the dungeon where Allan was still prisoner, tied to a wooden pole to keep him from escaping. He looked absolutely horrible, blonde hair stuck to his head from sweat and a few open cuts along his collarbone and stomach.  _This is almost like Christmas_. Feeling satisfied and needing to work out a few nerves, Gisborne grabs a bucket of chilled water and flings the contents at Allan, blood running down the outlaw’s muscled chest in thin rivulets.

“Hope you haven’t had too much fun without me,” he says with a half-smile. Allan lifts his head just enough for blue eyes to lock on his face, tan and scarred and covered in stubble after an entire year in the forest. “You want to hear a fun fact?” He’d learned those two words from Took and often found them to be more distressing than fun. “Your precious Robin was here just an hour or so ago. Did he happen to stop by and say hello or did he even try to get you out?”

Allan keeps quiet, exhausted and almost to his breaking point, he’s exactly where Gisborne needs in order to have a proper arrangement agreed upon. “Your Ranger was here,” Allan manages tiredly,” looked as nice as usual. You think she’d mind much if I joined her in be—” He lets out a gasping cough after Gisborne punches him hard in the gut, anger and possessiveness rearing their heads at the thought of a street urchin laying one finger on Took.

“Keep that up and I won’t let you in on my idea.”

“Just kill me now because I won’t help you kill Robin.”

“That’s touching, it really is, but that’s not what I want from you.” Forcing that easy smile back in place and shoving down his emotions, Gisborne continues. “I only want a simple exchange of information from time to time; a short conversation followed by some much-needed coin.”

“You want me to be your spy in the camp?”

“Well, what do you know, you’re not brainless after all. Looks like Took owes me a few pounds.” Allan scoffs and shakes his head, but doesn’t look away or protest the deal. “What do you say, Allan? You let slip if I need extra guards or new routes in Sherwood and I happen to forget a bag of money at a pre-arranged destination.” He pulls out a purse, heavy with the money inside it, and holds it in front of Allan’s face. “Do this and no one has to die, no one is captured or punished, and no one needs to be any the wiser about what’s happening.”

“Robin would find out.”

“No, the only person besides the two of us that will know about this will be Took. She will meet with you if I am unable to, at the same tavern we picked you up at. After a few months, you will have enough to afford a house far from here, to look after a family if you care to have one, and all you’ll have to do is be my eyes and ears in the forest. What do you say to that, Allan?”

“I’ll do it.”

* * *

It was late in the evening when Gisborne returned to Locksley, finding Jas in her bedroom. She was in the rocking chair by the window, moonlight shining down on her as she sang.  “ _Say you’ll love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime_ ,” she sings quietly, almost like a lullaby or a wish, not yet noticing she wasn’t alone,”  _say you’ll need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true, that’s all I ask of you._ ”

“Took…” He trails off, moving to stand in front of her so she didn’t have to turn in her seat to see him. “Took, I—” He runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sigh. The words had come so easily when he spoke them to Marian all those months ago, but this was different, this time he meant the words from his very soul.

“Am I in trouble or something?”

“No, of course not.” He kneels in front of her, taking in the way her eyes almost looked like fresh soil in this light with some honey-colored flecks near the pupils. He loved her eyes and the way they always reflected how she felt.  _Windows to the soul, indeed_. They gave him courage and made him feel like he wasn’t worthless.

“What is it?”

“I want you,” he blurts out,” I want to go to sleep knowing you’re within my reach, I want to wake up with you in my arms. I want to have you by my side in life, forever and always; curled up by me during winter nights and nearby during summer. You are the only woman I want to see every day for the rest of my life and I will tear this world apart before I let someone take you away from me. Will you stay with me, Jasmine Alexis Took?”

She opens and closes her mouth a few times, shaking hands fidgeting in her lap. She looked baffled, as though she’d never expected to have such words spoken to her. Gisborne was about to ask if she was okay when she began to speak.

“After my son was killed I thought he’d taken all of my love with him, but….” She stands and Gisborne follows suit. “Every time you smile my way I can feel the butterflies in my belly, your every touch sets my skin on fire, and it’s like an addiction that I don’t want to kick. I wasn’t sure at first, but now I’m certain about why you make my heart skip a beat.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I love you, Guy of Gisborne, more than anyone else in all the realms.”

“And I love you even more than that.” He cups her face in his hands, her skin soft under his palms. “I love you to the moon and back.”

“All the way to the stars.”


	64. Four Familiar Words

It had been weeks since Jas last slept soundly with no nightmares or unpleasant scenes that had her bolting up in bed with sobs racking her body. She felt relaxed and blissful, her curls falling in front of her eyes as she looks up at the man that kept her pressed against his side, his mouth open just wide enough for his snores to echo in his bedroom. _Their_ bedroom.

Her plump lips curl into a smile, reaching up a hand to wipe the drool off his chin. He was completely relaxed against her, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist while the other was tucked under his pillow, dark hair almost like ink against the white of the pillow, and the dark circles under his eyes not so noticeable anymore. He was sleeping easier, a big hugger, which took Jas by surprise.

Carefully as she can, Jas wiggles out from under his heavy arm and sits up against the headboard, content to just watch him sleep while things were peaceful. He was such a good man to those he cared about, feeling things so much deeper than most people Jas had met in all her twenty-six years. "What on earth are you doing all the way over there?" She looks down at him again with a small smile when she finds his pale eyes barely opened. "Get over here, I'm cold."

"And you think I'll warm you up," she asks with raised brows. She was always cold compared to humans, unnaturally so even compared to those of her own race; the only people colder than her were her master and her father.

"I can think of a few ways for that to happen," he counters smartly, closing his eyes again when she's back where she'd woken up. "I like having you in my arms." And she liked being in his arms, she felt secure and like nothing could go wrong as long as Gisborne was around. "It's not even dawn yet, so go back to sleep, Took." She waits until he's breathing deeply in sleep before raising her head and allowing her lips to brush his ear whenever she spoke.

" _Good morning, beautiful,"_ she sings, giggling when he pops one of his eyes open to stare at her," _how was your night? Mine was wonderful with you by my side and when I open my eyes to see your sweet face, it's a good morning, beautiful_ —" The lyrics are cut off abruptly when Gisborne pushes her off the bed, Jas landing with an indignant noise. "Rude, Gilbert!"

"We discussed the appropriate singing times and I distinctly remember there being a _no singing in bed_ rule."

"Oh yeah…." With a grunt, she gets to her feet and stretches her hands over her head, back arching appealingly. "What do we have on the agenda for today?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." He reluctantly kicks the covers off of him and sits up with his feet on the cold wooden floor. "Why don't we read some more of that book we started last night?"

"Because I'm not awake enough to explain why Sam is an amazing Hobbit that deserves more recognition, that's why." She bends down long enough to press a lingering kiss against his lips before pulling away and starting for the door across the room, her hand brushing the handle seconds before an arm is wrapped around her waist and she's lifted off her feet. Despite herself, a squeal escapes as she's suddenly dropped onto the bed, Gisborne joining her a second later. "Do you mind?"

"No," he answers innocently, straddling her waist and keeping her pinned to the mattress. "I'm quite comfortable, actually." And he looked it, crossing his arms over his bared chest and smirking down at her. It was that smirk, the stupidly seductive one that always managed to turn Jas's legs to jelly whenever he sent it her way.

"Lucifer, you're pretty," she murmurs, staring up at him with a dazed half-smile that usually appeared when he took control like this. Gisborne keeps that smirk in place as he reaches out to trace her lips with just the very tip of his index finger, brushing lightly as he continued upward over her nose and across her cheekbones. Her eyes flutter shut at the contact, feeling as it moves over her jaw and down her neck before following the slope of her shoulder that the strap of her nightgown didn't cover.

"You're so beautiful, Jas." The bed creaks slightly as he adjusts himself over Jas so that his lips can follow the same path his finger just had, the same delicate brushing like butterfly wings. She grips the blankets tightly, tilting her head to the side so that he could work his way down her neck, an indescribable heat flaring to life everywhere his lips touched. He stops at the spot where her neck and shoulder meet, biting just hard enough to make Jas gasp, then kissing it gently.

The sensations had her head spinning and her heart racing, arching up instinctively to feel him tightly against her. Lust and love were raging in equal parts, Jas loving the way his warm breath washed over her freezing skin. Her breath catches in her throat as she feels him shifting again, her thoughts sluggish as she waits to feel what he does next. It takes a moment for her to realize that he wasn't doing anything, another to realize the comforting warmth was gone, and another still to realize the little shit wasn't even hovering over her anymore.

Opening her eyes and blinking a few times to get her bearings back, she turns her head to the left and finds him pulling on a black shirt. "Why stop," she manages breathlessly, watching him as he dresses for the day.

"Well, we do have things to do today, Took." The smirk has been replaced with a devilish grin and Jas lets out a groan as she reluctantly leaves the bed.

"You're such a tease, Gilly."

"Now you'll remember the no singing in bed rule." Scowling, she leaves for her bedroom down the hall, kicking the door shut behind her as she starts to dig through the wardrobe for what she wanted to wear today. She decided on a pair of jean shorts that were a bit loose on her hips, a white crop top with the American flag in the center shaped like a heart, pink Converse, a Deathly Hallows bracelet, and the ring Gisborne had given her.

"I need some coffee," she mumbles, using a simple glamour to make it look like she had makeup on instead of actually working on it. It's not as if anyone important was going to show up at the castle and, even if they did, they would be simple humans that she couldn't give a shit about anyway. Satisfied with her appearance, she makes her way downstairs to the dining room, sitting in her customary place on Gisborne's right and starting in on her bowl of fruit that had been placed on the table ahead of time.

"How'd you sleep last night," Gisborne asks, holding his own cup of coffee in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. _He's not eating again_. That had been happening a lot lately and Jas wasn't sure what was wrong with him. Humans get sick easily, so maybe he's coming down with something. She sets her fork down and presses the back of her hand to his forehead, holding it there for a moment before withdrawing with a frown. He wasn't running a fever, but did that mean he was well?

"What's wrong with you?"

"What?"

"You haven't been eating much lately and you usually pig out in the mornings."

"Thank you, Took, make me sound like an animal." She rolls her eyes and slaps at his arm, too tired to deal with his remarks this early in the morning. She was the sassy one in this relationship, dammit. "I feel fine, I just haven't been hungry lately."

"Why?"

"It's probably just from stress." He takes a small bite of his oatmeal to prove his point that he was fine, but Jas didn't believe it for a second. Sure, he's been sleeping more since they started dating, but he was a little thinner and his collarbones were more pronounced than they had been a week ago. He wasn't eating enough and she didn't like it one little bit.

"I'll take up some of your duties so you can have a chance to eat like you should." He made to protest, but she cuts him off with just a raise of her hand. "Rangers are trained to eat only when necessary, we need a lot less than you humans do."

"All the same, I don't like the idea of knowing you aren't eating regularly." She gives him a pointed look and he lets out a sigh when he realizes he trapped himself. "Fine, I'll just carry something with me when I make my rounds."

"That's all I ask." Satisfied, Jas focuses on her own breakfast of fruit and coffee. The caffeine was the only thing that kept her from shoving Vaisey out of a window some days, so it was crucial she got in at least one cup of it before showing up at the castle. Truthfully, they'd learned that after she'd hung him out his bedroom window and threatened to drop him into the dried moat far below.

"Are you ready to face Vaisey or should I give you a moment?" Jas holds up her hand, downing the rest of her coffee before rising from the table with Gisborne. "I don't see how you can drink scalding hot coffee that quickly."

"It's a gift," she grins, looping one of her arms through his, almost skipping as they made their way to the front door. "Do you think anything important is going to happen today?"

"Not that I know of or hope for." Her grin falters as she thinks back to all the important tasks pushed their way that Hood had screwed up at some point or another. She didn't feel the anger she usually did when she thought of Hood and Company, just a deep annoyance that seemed connected to her freaking soul. "What do you say to getting this day over with and then reading a chapter or two in bed?"

"I say that's the best thing I've heard all morning." Sharing a smile, Gisborne helps Jas up on Tug before getting on his on horse, the pair galloping out of the stables. Tug made an impatient noise, but seemed to relax as Jas pushed her a little harder. Tug hated being cooped up in the stables and the mare loved showing that she could keep up with the stallion without a problem.

Since they were both going as fast as their horses would allow, they arrived sooner than usual to the castle. They stabled the horses themselves before making their way inside, their laughter dying the second they walk into the Sheriff's quarters.

"My eyes," Jas shrieks, clapping her hands over her face and spinning on her heel to face away from Vaisey. "Lucifer's sake, that isn't an image I needed in my head!" He was bathing and he was naked and Jas really wished she could just chuck _herself_ out of a window to be free of the sight.

"Relax," Vaisey grumbles," I'm not that bad looking."

"Then why do I want to gouge my eyes out?"

"Well, we can't all look like your prince charming." There's a splash of water before Vaisey begins to talk again, growing angrier the longer he goes. "The dogs were released this morning and you both know what that means. Hood and his group of miscreants tried to break into the strong room, _my_ strong room! Am I supposed to tolerate everyone's utter idiocy? A clue, no! No, I will not stand by and let Hood steal all of my treasure!"

"Prince John's treasure."

"Whatever, it's mine until it's transferred to him!"

"At least we know our defenses worked," Gisborne counters," we'll be able to stop him next time."

"Next time isn't soon enough, I wanted him last night when he tried to steal from me!"

"Prince John," Jas reminds him again.

"Prince John's Black Knights if you want to be accurate, you brat. That treasure is meant to pay them so that we can be assured of their continuing loyalty." Jas chances to turn around just as Vaisey stands up, the Ranger letting out a shout and pressing her face against Gisborne's chest.

"I'm gonna go blind at this rate!"

"Just get out then!" She brings the edge of her crop top up to cover her eyes before running out of the room with her bra on clear display. _At least I wore the sexy red one today_. She stays with her back to the room until she hears the door open and close behind her, turning when she recognizes Gisborne's footsteps.

"You lasted longer than I thought you would," Jas states. "Are you blind yet?"

"You're fluent in German, right," Gisborne checks, reaching out to fix Jas's shirt when he notices that she's still covering her eyes with it.

"Define fluent."

"Well, can you hold conversations?"

"I know all my cuss words if that helps you." She gives him a cheeky grin, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. "What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?"

"We have a Count arriving today, Friedrich of Bavaria. Vaisey hopes to swindle him out of all of his money."

"That explains why the Great Hall looks like the Kickapoo casino." She tries to think if she's heard the name before, tries to be serious as she and Gisborne start towards the stairs, but she lost it the second her gaze met his and they began to laugh in unison. "What kind of a name is Friedrich?"

"It's almost as good as an angel named Todd." She leans her forehead against his chest, his arms going around her as they attempted to support each other through the laughing fit. They really did know quite a few people with hilarious names and the fact that Todd's name wasn't something asinine like _Charmeine_ just made her laugh even harder. "Oh, God, I haven't laughed that hard in weeks."

"I know," Jas replies breathlessly, clutching at her stomach," I needed that after everything that's gone on lately."

"Well, you'll be feeling absolutely marvelous when you hear our current destination." With an arm around her shoulders, they start down the stairs and towards the front door, passing by the front hall where servants were putting together different types of medieval casino merchandise. "Vaisey has charged us with the responsibility of killing all the men that worked on the strong room."

"I haven't killed someone in forever, so it'll be a nice change." With a small escort of guards, they ride back to Locksley at a leisurely pace, enjoying the way the sunlight spilled over them, warm and welcomed after a few weeks of consistently freezing temperatures. Jas tilts her head back, trusting Tug to keep on track while she marveled at how warm it could be outside of Hell.

"I thought you hated the heat."

"I usually do, but it's nice in small doses." She and Garen had spent hours outside when the weather permitted, tending to the garden or playing Hide and Seek just inside the woods that made up the back of their property. He was always such a hyper child and running around outside seemed the only way to have him ready for his afternoon nap. "My baby would've loved it here," she murmurs after a while," all the trees and small animals."

"I wish I could've met him."

"He would've had you wrapped around his little finger in an instant." Jas looks over at her boyfriend, giving him a soft smile that she knew he liked. "You two are a lot alike in some ways and I think that's why I've fallen for you."

"Well, you're nothing like the women in my family, which is probably why I've fallen for you." She laughs at that, ducking her head and allowing her curls to hide her blush. "I love you, Took." She glances up again, a bright grin making itself known as he said those four familiar words again.

"I love you too, Gisborne."


	65. Always

"Do you gamble much, Took," Gisborne asks as they walk back into the Great Hall, Jas looking satisfied after killing one of the workers a few minutes ago.

"Only with my life," she answers, hands in the pockets of her shorts. The room was filled with games to keep the Count occupied, Vaisey overseeing everything as tables and food are brought in to be set out and inspected. "I hope that guy likes to risk his money as much as y'all think he does."

"If there's one thing Vaisey is rarely wrong about, it's idiots he can deceive." Jas makes a soft noise of agreement, reaching out to swipe a deck of cards off a nearby table as they passed it. She wasn't great at card games, Gisborne's numerous victories in Uno were proof of that, but she did like to fiddle with them from time to time.

"Not bad," Vaisey says loudly, the servants in the room falling silent as he turns away from a table of food," it's even better than I thought it would be. As I'm sure you're all quite aware of, the house will always beat the booby that comes to play our little games." Polite laughter as Vaisey strolls towards the large Craps table set up in the middle of the room. "I've had this table put here because the Count prefers dice to any other game and this beauty is what will immediately capture his gaze when he walks inside. Carry on."

"Is it just me," Jas whispers to Gisborne," or are his speeches getting more long-winded?"

"It's not just you," Gisborne assures her. His mildly happy expression darkens as an extra set of footsteps join the room, Jas already knowing who it'd be. There are three reasons why Gisborne would suddenly look so damn grumpy and two of them are in this castle. Pursing her lips, Jas turns and rests a hand on Gisborne's arm as she spots Marian standing a couple of feet away from Vaisey.

"It's about time you decided to arrive," Vaisey states," you're even slower than the Ranger is and you're already in the damn castle." Marian ignores the jibe, clenching her jaw in annoyance. "As our guest is supposed to be here soon, I thought it would be good that he has a friend here."

"What does that have to do with me," she asks, though she looks as though she's dreading the answer.

"You'll be that friend and you'll ensure that his every desire is quenched. Anything the Count wants, you'll give him and I'll hear no fussing from you."

"Don't worry," Jas says, shooting Vaisey a glare," you'll still be a virgin by the end of his visit." All three of her companions send her looks varying from shock (Marian), annoyance (Vaisey), and slight relief (Gisborne). "The fifth satanic rule of the earth proclaims that no sexual advances can be made unless the mating signal is given, so Marian will not let him screw her brains out unless she wants him to."

"Thank you," she breathes in relief, even sparing a smile for Jas.

"Don't mistake it for kindness, my master just doesn't believe in rape." It was the one good thing her master had going for him aside from not harming little children, though the last one was broken in Garen's case because he was seen as an abnormality and expendable.

"Kindness or not, I won't be doing it anyway."

"You'll do it," Vaisey snaps," or I'll have Took hang you up by your toes and torture you in whichever way she sees fit." He leans in closer to her, stage whispering in her ear. "If she can make a grown make beg for mercy, what do you think she could do to you, hm? Or better yet, what do you think she could do to your beloved father?" Marian's resolve crumbles the moment her father is mentioned and Jas knew they had her.

"And what if he knows my heart isn't in it?"

"Then lie," Gisborne replies coldly," it's one of your many talents." Vaisey flips a gold coin in the air, catching it before tossing it to Marian with an amused look when she fumbles a little.

"Go and buy yourself a cheap gown," he orders," the cheaper the better and make sure it leaves just enough to the imagination." Vaisey leads the way out of the Great Hall, calling over his shoulder as he goes. "Don't forget to smile!" Jas is the last of the three to leave, Marian catching her arm when she tries to walk past.

"You will protect me from any unwanted advances," she asks, eyes glistening with the tears she was fighting back. "You won't let the Count force himself on me?"

"Of course I won't," Jas grumbles, shoving Marian away from her," but that doesn't make us besties. You broke the heart of the man I love and while I'm grateful that I can be with him now, it doesn't mean I like you in the slightest." The men have gathered in Vaisey's office by the time Jas rejoins them, Vaisey pacing the length of the room and Gisborne leaning against the desk. "Have I missed anything?"

"Nothing of note," Vaisey tells her. "I want you to wear something nice in case Marian fails in her task. If the Count doesn't want what she offers, then you'll step up in fill her place."

"You got it," Jas says with a shrug. It would be easy for her to feign interest in one of the nobility after being raised around such types.  Gisborne makes a sound of protest, glowering at Vaisey.

"What? It's not as if you two are married. And besides, if she can get you to smile and feel something other than angst, then imagine what she can get a normal human being to feel. Go and get changed, Took, he should be here at any moment."

"I ain't having sex with him if that's what you're thinking, Vaisey." He makes a face, but shoos her out all the same. She would be kind enough to the Count if she had to be, but she wouldn't bow to him or act like a dog on a leash.

* * *

 

Jas barely had time to pull on her dress before Gisborne came storming into the room she kept at the castle, his cheeks flushed in his anger and the door slammed shut behind him. She knew what had him so upset and decided to say nothing, knowing he’d speak when he was ready to. While he started pacing, she zips the side of her dress and moves over to the small jewelry box, settling on a pair of diamond earrings that brushed against her neck whenever she turned her head.

Next came her shoes, a pair of white heels with thin straps of braided leather crossing over her toes and buckling behind her heel. She uses her magic to tame her hair a little more, running her fingers through the loosened curls until she was happy with how it looked. That’s when Gisborne stops his pacing, watching her as she turned on the padded stool to look up at him.

Sunlight flooded the room through the opened window, making his pale skin seem almost like gold and his eyes like sapphires. Their gazes locked and held, a silent conversation passing between them that lasted only seconds and yet conveyed every fear Gisborne had about this decision.

“I’ll give him nothing,” Jas promises, voice kept low as she watched him kneel in front of her. “I am yours and you are mine, always.”

“Forever,” Gisborne murmurs, voice shaky as he rests his forehead against hers. “How long can a love between a Ranger and human last, though?”

“Our love will last until the end of times when Lucifer rises with his armies, until we are dust beneath the heels of my master’s boots, and he’ll have to use his strongest men to keep me away from you even then.”

“I want to be with you for the rest of my life, Took, but I know that isn’t possible.” Jas closes her eyes, her hands going to cup his face even before she realized what she was doing. She felt the smooth skin of his cheeks, warm and filled with crimson blood that kept him alive, _so_ _very alive_. She would never abandon him while he still breathed, not even her master would take him from her like he had Garen. She’s stronger now, she would fight until her death to keep this man with her. “No matter what, I will always die before you do.”

“And I will fight the Reaper that claims your soul with everything I have, I swear it.” He pulls back just enough to look at her face, Jas opening her eyes again so he can see the hard resolve burning there. “I will always be yours and you will always be mine,” she repeats.

“Always.”


	66. Count Friedrich's Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a fun day spent with my mom and far away from my boring, redneck town, I thought I’d write up a chapter for you amazing people! I also wanted to tell y’all how much I appreciate the feedback and a special thank you to psychedelicbubblegum who has kept me motivated with amazing clothing sets, tons of confidence boosters, and Marvel scenes that make me giggle like a lunatic (okay, so I’m practically certifiable, but your stuff is still perfection) or cry like a baby because of all the feels!

The Count’s arrival was announced by a trumpeted fanfare and the clattering of horse’s hooves on cobblestones, drawing Jas’s attention away from her reflection in the small compact she’d brought outside with her. “And so it begins,” Gisborne mumbles, sending her a wry smile as she tucks her tweezers and compact away in her makeup bag.

“Let’s hope it ends quickly,” she replies with a smile of her own, all of them starting down the stairs to meet their guest in the courtyard. Count Friedrich hops out of his coach, brandishing a handkerchief as though he were frightened a sneeze might hit him unexpectedly, and dressed in a cream color that made his complexion tanner than it actually was.

 _He looks like an asshole_.

“Count Friedrich,” Vaisey greets with a broad smile, though it wasn’t returned by the German. “Welcome to Nottingham.”

“Tell me, are all the roads in England so terrible,” Friedrich demands, his accent a little thick, but the snootiness was conveyed clearly. He wasn’t bad looking with a neatly trimmed beard and goatee, a long, aristocratic nose, and pale gray eyes. He was a bit thin, but Jas could still see he was in fighting shape by the way his fitted clothes hugged his muscles. “I feel like I’ve been beaten like an egg.”

“Your safety was my first concern, so I organized your route to avoid the forest where all manner of beggars and thieves like to converge.”

“Myself and my men could easily handle your vagabonds.” Jas bites her tongue to keep her comment from coming out, wanting to ask if he intended to fight the outlaws or just powder their faces. Friedrich’s attention is captured by Marian as Vaisey steps to the side, his gaze locked on her with some real interest. Beside her, Jas can feel Gisborne relax a bit to know it was the other woman that had the Count’s focus. Friedrich removes his hat and gives a formal bow before tossing it to Vaisey and coming closer. “Had I known what awaited me here, I would have employed winged horses.” Marian, obviously uncomfortable, barely manages a polite smile and nothing more.

“Lady Marian here has taken it upon herself to make sure your stay in Nottingham is not met with disappointment.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Marian forces the words out, sending Vaisey a look over Friedrich’s shoulder.

“Come now, acquaintances are for old women and priests. Surely the two of us could dispense with such things? I am your friend and your servant, charmed by your beauty.” He places a kiss on her knuckles, never breaking eye contact with her until there’s a cry and then the sound of wood meeting stone, one of the Count’s servants dropping his end of a small chest. “Won’t you be careful with that? Take it to my rooms if you can manage the task!” Jas arches a brow, her gaze following the two struggling men and wondering just how loaded this guy is. “Just a few shillings for the tables. Do you play, Lady Marian?”

“I’m afraid such pursuits aren’t a fondness of mine.”

“Then we must find something that excites you more. Tell me, do you ride?”

“Isn’t that a loaded question,” Jas mumbles, letting out a hiss when Gisborne’s boot connects with her ankle. Friedrich turns his gaze to her, taking in the bare expanse of her legs and the small amount of cleavage revealed by her dress before his eyes land on her face.

“I wasn’t aware that ladies of the night were allowed on castle grounds.” Gisborne didn’t have a chance to hold her back or shout a warning before Jas’s fist slammed into the Count’s throat, a squeak leaving him as he toppled backwards to the ground. He clutched at his throat, eyes wide and his face tomato red as he struggled to breathe, but Jas doesn’t give him a chance to recover. She grabs him by the front of his doublet and slams him against his carriage with enough force to drive the air out of his lungs.

“I am a Ranger,” she snarls, face inches from his,” one of Lucifer’s chosen, and Countess of the Cottage! You will give me the respect I deserve or I will show you the meaning of pain.” It was quiet apart from the Count’s wheezing gasps, everyone on edge to see what would happen next. Jas wanted to hurt him for calling her a whore, she wanted to rip his heart right out of his chest and watch him choke on his own blood. Despite the way she liked to dress, you had to be with more than two men to be counted among the harlots and even then it had to be a paid service.

She takes in the way the Count’s eyes were glossy with tears, her anger cooling just enough to let reason take over. They needed this man’s money and they needed him alive to avoid suspicion, so she wouldn’t be able to give a suitable punishment. With one last sneer, Jas shoves Friedrich away from her and storms off back inside the castle. Servants practically dove out of her way, giving her a straight path to her quarters and place to vent some of her anger. Nothing was safe inside the sitting room, one of the chairs shattering against the far wall and her bookshelves snapping under the pressure of her telekinesis. It’s not until she throws a vase of flowers and nearly takes Gisborne’s head off with it that she calms enough to see past the red haze.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this angry before,” he remarks, looking around the room at the splintered wood and torn pages of books that were fluttering to the ground. “Friedrich must have really struck a nerve.”

“I’m not a whore,” she asserted, throat tight as she felt tears stinging her eyes. “I’m not one of those women, Gisborne, I swear.” He makes a face and she’s not sure what it is, going stiff when he wraps his arms around her. Did he feel sorry for her? She didn’t need his pity; she didn’t need anything from a human. “I don’t want your sympathy!”

“Too bad, you’ve got it.” He doesn’t let her go when she tries to escape his arms, tightening his hold on her until she’d given up. She wraps her arms around his waist in return and rests her head against his shoulder, sniffling as she continued to fight back her tears. “You’re not a courtesan or some filthy woman who has no choice except to sell her body.” He moves them over to the settee, rocking her slightly to help calm her.

“I’m just a stupid Ranger whose only purpose in life is to cause destruction.”

“No, that’s not you at all.” He rests his cheek against her head, combing his fingers through the stubborn curls. “You are Jasmine Alexis Took, a stubborn, proud, independent woman who thinks she knows everything; you’re ruthless and ambitious, you give no mercy to those who don’t deserve it. You’re the only person I trust my life with, the only person I know won’t kill me while I sleep, you’re amazing, and cheerful, and wonderfully sarcastic.”

He pauses, cupping her face in his hands to make her look at him. She knew she had to look horrible with her eyeliner beginning to run and her hair wild, but the way he looked at her made her feel like the most beautiful woman in all the realms. As long as he looked at her with such confidence, she could do anything.

“And most importantly, you’re the love of my life.”


	67. Vaisey's Popularity

“I understand you’re angry with him,” Vaisey says as he urges—or _shoves_ , as the case may be—Jas into the Great Hall,” but you’ll still sing a little number or I’ll have your head shaved while you sleep.” She gives him a look of offense, burying her fingers in her curls. “That’s right and I’m just enough of a bastard to do it.”

“Fine, but you’re not gonna like it,” Jas warns, following him over to the refreshment table. If she was going to sing in front of a roomful of people, then she needed some liquid courage. After her meltdown, Gisborne had stayed with her for an hour until he was sure she could function before he left to meet with Allan at the tavern. She’d been left alone for the better part of forty-five minutes after that before Vaisey barged inside and demanded she join him downstairs. She told him what he could do with that order, but he’d grabbed her makeup bag and began to run.

“I don’t care if it’s some bawdy song you heard in the tavern, just go sing and make Nottingham seem a little less backwards to that snotty noble.” Jas takes a moment to down a cup of spiced wine, thinking over all the songs she could remember the words to at such a short notice. It was one thing to sing bits and pieces to annoy the people around her, but it was something else entirely to actually sing all the verses.

Finally, she sets her cup down and tugs on the edge of her tank top, the Slytherin insignia on the front sticking out in shades of green and silver. It’s not until she meets Vaisey’s gaze again that a song comes to mind, making her smirk at the human. _Yes, this is gonna be good_.

"Vaisey, now that we're friends, I've decided to make you my new project."

"You really don't have to do that," he replies, looking at Jas as though she'd just declared herself an alien. She couldn't blame him, they were nowhere near friendship territory, but she didn't want to pass up the opportunity of embarrassing him.

"I know, that's what makes me so nice."

"Took...?"

" _Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I—and let's face it, who isn't less fortunate than I_ ," she begins to sing, looking at Vaisey with all the pity she can muster," _my tender heart tends to start to bleed. And when someone needs a makeover, I simply have to take over; I know, I know exactly what they need. And even in your case, though it's the toughest case I've yet to face, don't worry, I'm determined to succeed_.”

“I am not a hard case!”

“ _Follow my lead and, yes indeed, you will be popular._ ” People were looking at them now, a few of them sniggering behind their hands as Vaisey’s cheeks slowly darkened in a blush. “ _You’re gonna be popular! I’ll teach you the proper ploys when you talk to boys, little ways to flirt and flounce, oh! I’ll show you what shoes to wear, how to fix your hair, everything that really counts to be popular!_ ”

Jas moves away from Vaisey, her steps light as she makes her way through the room with a bright grin. He made her do this, so she was at least going to get some entertainment from it. She makes her way over to Marian and Friedrich, continuing to sing and she twirled around them.

“ _I’ll help you be popular! You’ll hang with the right cohorts, you’ll be good at sports, know the slang you’ve got to know! So let’s start, ‘cause you’ve got an awfully long way to go._ ” Jas stops long enough to lean on Friedrich’s shoulder, giving him a look of sympathy. “ _Don’t be offended by my frank analysis, think of it as personality dialysis. Now that I’ve chosen to become a pal, a sister and adviser, there’s nobody wiser, not when it comes to popular._ ”

She moves away from the Count, dancing through the gathering crowd of people. More were coming in from the halls, a few servants pausing in their work to watch the spectacle. “ _I know about popular! With an assist from me to be who you’ll be, instead of dreary who you were—well, are. There’s nothing that can stop you from becoming popular-lar_.” She was about to start harmonizing like the song called for only to have part of a honey cake stuffed in her mouth.

“Don’t you think that’s quite enough, Took,” Gisborne asks in amusement, raising his brows when she shrugs. “Did you have fun embarrassing Vaisey and Friedrich?”

“It was amazing,” she confirms after swallowing.

“Good, they had it coming.”

“Ah, Countess Took,” Friedrich greets as he stops at her side, Marian leaving the room with a hand at her head,” I’d like to apologize for my comment earlier.” Jas arches a brow, waiting for him to continue. “I’ve met only one of your kind and it was a male in formal dress, so you can imagine my surprise to learn how the females clothe themselves. I sincerely hope you’ll accept my apology.”

“The late, great Margaret Houlihan once said something that really stuck with me when dealing with impolite little toads like you. Do you know what it was?”

“I’m sorry, I do not.” With her lips quirked up in a half-smile mimicking her boyfriend’s, she leans a bit closer so that Friedrich definitely hears her over the hubbub. Gisborne, ever the jealous type, wraps an arm around Jas’s waist, glowering at Friedrich over her head.

“It’s a good thing I’m a lady or you’d need a nurse, buddy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I have a standing in the medical community, and I don't need the help of a nurse.”  
> “It’s a good thing I’m a lady or you’d need a nurse, buddy.”—Major Winchester and Major Houlihan, MASH, #11.16
> 
> The song Jas sings is “Popular” from Wicked.


	68. Yelling at Satan

Gisborne looks up when Took walks into their room, taking in the way she was struggling to keep her eyes open as she allowed herself to fall backwards onto the bed. He hides the book he’d been reading in the drawer of the vanity before moving to sit beside her, eyebrows raising slightly when she meets his gaze.

“Tug isn’t in a good mood,” she answers the question he didn’t ask, wincing as she rolled onto her stomach. “I took her out on our afternoon ride and she threw me and bolted.” Gisborne pulls the back of her tank top up, hissing when he spots a bruise beginning to form along her spine.

“She’s never thrown you before, so what’s wrong with her?”

“Lucifer only knows. Actually….” Took rolls again and then sits up gingerly, grabbing the hand mirror off the bedside table. “The last time she acted spooked was when my master had made contact with me, but I haven’t spoken to him in months.” She sets the mirror in her lap long enough to cut her finger and allow a few drops to spill on the glass before holding it up, hissing in a snake-like language.

“What are you doing?” He got his answer a moment later when the face of a man filled the frame, the glass icing over around the edges like the tips of the man’s golden hair. He was a handsome man, Gisborne would allow, his eyes hooded as he stares out at his chosen, his blonde hair sticking up all over his head.

“Is that psychopathic snake I call a brother in Nottingham again?”

“Nice to talk to you again, too,” Lucifer murmurs with a faint smile twisting his thin lips upwards. “I’ve been doing just lovely since you left for that realm and I’ve only thrown two incompetent servants into hellfire this week.”

“Cut the shit and tell me what I want to know.” Gisborne had seen his Ranger yell at a lot of people since she came to be here, but this is the first time he’s seen her yell at _Lucifer_. “Is Dash in Nottingham again?”

“He’s in London.” There’s a loud yawn and then Lucifer’s speaking again, head propped up on his fist. “You know, even us fallen angels need to sleep at some point and I was just in the middle of an incredible dream.”

“Does it look like I care?”

“Where’s the respect, Took?”

“Up your ass and around the corner,” she bites out,” it’s right beside your sanity and your big head.” Gisborne’s eyes go wide and he sucks in a sharp breath at her blatant disrespect. It was one thing to be a little angry, but to growl at her master like this made his stomach twist with dread. Lucifer’s amber eyes narrow and the fury was almost a palpable thing as he leaned forward until his nose almost seemed pressed against the glass.

“You watch your tongue before I have it removed.” His voice was soft and even, letting Gisborne know where Took had learned that intimidating trick. “I don’t know where the nerve came from that allowed you to speak to your master like that, but stamp it out this instant.” And just like that, Took seemed to deflate and she lowered her head in submission.

“Apologies, Master, I forgot myself.” Lucifer delivers a final glare before he disappears and the ice-covered glass is the only thing left of his presence. With a shout, Took throws the mirror across the room, the glass shattering and skittering across the floor like tiny gems, glittering in the sunlight. She meets his gaze a moment later, her anger still there like flames in her dark eyes, and then she heaves a great sigh before allowing her head to drop on his shoulder. “My uncle’s an asshole.”

“At least we know that’s where your brother inherited it,” Gisborne remarks, glad to feel Took laugh even if it was barely more than a single huff.

“You’re right, it must run in the family.


	69. Count Froadrick Von Fronkensteen

"Well, she rebounded fast," Jas remarks as she gazes out at Marian and Friedrich making out in the courtyard. "You doing okay, big guy?" She turns to look up at Gisborne, squeezing his shoulder to let him know she wasn't angry. The man had almost married the other woman, so it would make sense if he still had some feelings for her.

"It's just my ego, Took," he murmurs, but smiles all the same when Jas wraps him up in a hug. One other thing she knew about this man was that he valued his hugs and would take advantage of them whenever he could. "Maybe you can kiss it to make it feel better?"

"Uh, excuse me," Vaisey interrupts," you do remember it's not just the two of you here, correct?"

"We know," Jas nods. "We just don't care."

"Save your romantic exploits for the bedroom and not when we have money to steal." He strides away, but Jas and Gisborne remain where they are, resting their foreheads together. She liked these moments they were able to have, the quiet ones where they could just relax into each other's touch. "I meant now, lovebirds!"

Of course, Vaisey found a particular joy in ruining those moments.

Sharing a smile, Gisborne and Jas follow after the old man into the Great Hall where the games were all being reset for the Count to play. Jas found gambling to be a boring pastime, preferring something physical or challenging. As Gisborne moves through the room, Jas seats herself on a table and starts piling a small plate with fruit and a bit of meat. She wasn't that hungry, but she was bored and there was food nearby so she might as well enjoy herself.

"You need to mingle," Gisborne says as he passes by," distract the Count so that he'll lose."

"And here I was thinking you'd be too jealous."

"Don't flirt, just mingle... Mingle in a way that isn't flirting, a non-flirting sort of mingle that won't have me knocking Friedrich's teeth down his throat." She hops down and sets the plate aside, giving Gisborne a wicked grin.

"I'll mingle the pants off of him."

"His pants come off and my sword comes out."

"Ohh, is that a promise?" She winks before making her way through the crowd, biting back a giggle when she's able to hear Gisborne's sound of frustration. Jas loved that he was jealous, it showed he cared without making it borderline creepy.  _At least he doesn't watch me sleep. First person to do that is losing an eye_. "Count Fronkensteen," she greets loudly, purposefully mispronouncing his name just for giggles," always so lovely to see scum in action."

"It's Friedrich, actually," he corrects, careful to keep his tone from being hateful.

"But they told me it was Fronkensteen."

"Well, they were quite mistaken." Jas gives him a little nod and sits on the edge of the gaming table, smiling and swinging her legs back and forth. Marian and Friedrich share confused looks, then look at Jas expectantly. "Is there something I can help you with, Countess?"

"Nope." She keeps the smile in place, loving the way she could see the pair in front of her tensing up. They were up to something and they were getting paranoid the longer she sat there, and it was so much more entertaining than it probably should have been. To prove that she wasn't going anywhere, Jas summons her makeup bag and begins to dig through it until she can find her nail file, then gets to work. The curved tip of the file flashed in the torchlight, emphasizing how sharp she kept it in case she had to use it as a weapon. "You gonna sit there and stare at me all day or are you going to chance your luck with the dice, Froadrick?"

"It's  _Friedrich_." He lets out a sharp sigh, gripping the edge of the table to tightly that his knuckles went white. "My name is Friedrich, Countess Took, and I was simply waiting for you to get off the table." She arches a brow, glancing up from her nails for a moment to send him a look that clearly stated she wasn't going anywhere. "Fine, I hope you enjoy seeing the game so close up."

"It'll be the highlight of my day," she returns dryly. Uncomfortable or not, Friedrich kept to his word and began to play, rolling the dice again and again with Marian blowing on them each time and seeming to infuse them with good luck as he continued to win each hand. If he kept that up, then Vaisey will be the one losing money.  _Is he cheating somehow? Maybe he brought in his own loaded dice to use_. But that wouldn't be able to happen, the dice on the table were fresh from Vaisey's chambers and Friedrich would have no way of getting in there without looking like a pin cushion for all his troubles.

"Sheriff," Friedrich calls out after a moment," shall we make things more interesting?" Vaisey nods, he and Gisborne walking over to the table from across the room where they'd been lurking. "I will bet everything I have against the content of your strong room. Do you agree to the wager?" Vaisey doesn't answer or give any inclination of agreeing, so the pompous German man continues to speak. "As we say in Bavaria,  _das letzte Hemd hat keine Taschen_." There's a pregnant pause where everyone stared at Friedrich in confusion, Jas rolling her eyes when no one catches on.

"He said that your funeral shroud has no pockets."

"Yes, you cannot take your belongings with you when you die."  _Unless you're an upper class Egyptian, that is_. There's polite laughter, Vaisey even joining in to make himself seem less like the villain that's plotting to kill Friedrich if his plan doesn't work out. "So, I ask again, do you accept my terms?"

"Agreed," Vaisey finally says, giving a little nod. "As it's such a momentous game, might I suggest a change of dice?"

"If that is your wish." Jas hops down, letting Vaisey take the lead while she goes to stand next to Gisborne. Brooding or not, his presence was a comforting one and she liked standing next to him as the tensions began to rise. Perhaps she was growing too comfortable around him, but she couldn't find herself caring one whit.

The dice are handed over, Friedrich snatching them out of the servant's hand to look them over.

"I see," he mutters, almost a whisper, turning the dice over and over in his hand. " _Ja_ , I see..."

"Would you roll the goddamn dice," Jas snaps irritably.

"Of course, I'm sorry if you are upset." He gives a weak smile and quickly turns away from her glare as the other nobles place their bets. Jas doesn't relax again until she feels a hand on her lower back, slowly helping to drain away her anger as Gisborne shoots her a smile. Jas releases a sigh when a servant announces that the house wins after Friedrich rolled the dice, relaxing further under Gisborne's hand. "Lady Marian," Friedrich declares with a sullen pout," you have brought me nothing but bad luck. Your attentions are no longer welcome.  _Auf wiedersehen_."  _Something there doesn't add up_. The Count storms out as guards take possession of the large chest of silver, moving over to the shoot in the wall.

"I'll be right back." Jas gets out of the room and halfway down the hall when the bells start tolling, a feral growl leaving her as she begins to sprint for the strong room. She was suddenly glad for the flats she had on, making the job of running far easier than the heels she'd worn earlier.

"No," the Sheriff was howling when she skidded to a stop to avoid running into him and Gisborne," it's not fair! No, no, no!" He stomps and starts shoving guards, yelling all the time while Jas and Gisborne share a look of complete frustration. After all the planning that had gone to making sure this room was safe, Hood had gotten inside to steal everything anyway.

"This blows."


	70. Experimental Armor

Rangers were a strange race, their rules so strict in some places and so bendable in others, and altogether difficult to understand. The book that contained all of their laws—over a hundred of them—was bound in dark green leather and the laws themselves were written in some kind of crimson ink, meticulous and done in the finest calligraphy. It wasn't a very large book, which Gisborne was thankful for, but some of the words confused him. For example, number sixteen stated," Fucking stop singing 'We're Not Gonna Take This' just because the frozen yogurt machine is on the fritz" and Gisborne had no idea what the song was or why one should sing it for the frozen yogurt thing.  _What the hell is frozen yogurt supposed to be?_

Still, he soldiered through it because he knew completion and memorization were key to spending the rest of his life with his Ranger. Lucifer was a hard master to please, but Gisborne was nothing if not determined and he knew he was wearing the fallen angel down.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a loud bang followed by,"  _Agony, far more painful than yours!"_  Quickly, he hides the book under his mattress just in time for Took to stumble into their bedroom, hopping on one foot while holding the other.

"I told you not to leave that table in the hallway."

"Fuck you, Gisborne." He smirks and leans against a bedpost, the smirk he knew for a fact never failed to make her want him.

"Maybe later on." She snorts and hobbles over to the bed, falling backwards and clutching at her toe. He was used to her dramatics by now and knew she wasn't hurt too badly if she'd been able to quote that infernal musical instead of actually cursing. "What are you doing up here so early?" She'd taken to feeding the children in Locksley in the mornings, the little ones flocking to her despite how weary their parents remained.

"That armor's ready for you to test out." He takes her bare foot in his hands, massaging it with a fond smile. "The dude that made it has BO so bad that I'm surprised birds haven't fallen out of the sky yet."

"That's rude, dear."

"I'm an asshole, you knew that when we started dating." With a grunt, she sits up and pulls on her shoes before standing, dragging him with her to the first floor where the hired blacksmith was waiting on them. "Let's get this demonstration over with so I can get back to what I do best."

"And may I ask what that is, my lady," the blacksmith asks, raising his brows in question.

"Eat." Gisborne snorts, outright laughing when Took slaps at his arm. He wasn't able to help it, knowing fully how much Took loved her food and how cranky she was when she hadn't eaten in more than five hours. One day, when they had nothing else to do, she had wandered around the manor in only a pair of panties and one of his shirts, making her way through an enormous bag of what she called chips. He's not sure he's ever seen her so content before as she was then, though he can't help but picture the few moments of peaceful sleep she gets each night before the nightmares start up.

"We'll take a few soldiers with us as guards and go deep in the woods," Gisborne instructs once he sobered again. "I assure you that you will be killed immediately if your armor doesn't stand up to the test." The smith swallows hard, but he doesn't back down under Gisborne's stare. "Took, let's get the horses ready."

"Already done, Gilbert." She looked pleased with herself, her smile bright and her eyes brighter. "And I've got five guards waiting for you outside to accompany us into the woods." Her dark eyes land on the smith, lips quirking up in a smile that would make lesser men fear her. It was a primal thing, something one of those large African cats would show to their cornered prey, and it was working on the older man. "Fuck this up and I'll be the one who murders you, sweetie."

"And on that cheerful note, we should be going." Took practically skips outside, going straight for her mare and climbing up into the saddle. Tug was as excited as Gisborne had ever seen her, tossing her head back and making the silver ribbons braided into her mane flash. Took spent at least an hour a day with her companion, pampering her and exercising her.

"Can I say it," she asks with a hopeful smile when Gisborne climbs up into Arastos's saddle. "Please can I say it, Gisborne? I promise this will be that last time!" It was a simple phrase, but it tended to get annoying after Took saying it almost every time they set out in a group. Still, she was pouting and even his strong will could be worn down by the expression.

"Fine, but just this once." She lets out an excited squeal, straightening up in her saddle as she did each time she took charge.

"Come on, boys," she calls out in that strong southern accent of hers," let's ride!" And they set out after her, driving their horses hard in an unspoken race against the outlaws. He and Took had found a nice clearing set in a dip near the center of the forest, a place people rarely ventured if the lack of tracks was anything to go off of. It took them nearly thirty minutes to reach the spot, but it was worth it as they tied their horses up and dismounted.

"You four," Gisborne addresses the guards," ready your bows." As the men do what he said, Gisborne turns to the remaining one, gesturing at the blacksmith. "You put on the chest plate and stand a few yards away from us." The guard swallows nervously, but doesn't question the order as he pulls part of the armor on with the smith's help. The metal was shiny and surprisingly thin, held in place by small clasps at the shoulders and sides. "Now!" Four arrows cut through the air, all of them snapping and bouncing off the front of the armor, the guard unharmed.

"And the two of you doubted me," the smith says with a pleased smile as they moved to check the breastplate. There weren't even any dents to suggest the man should be dead, just four small scratches that could be polished off later on.

"Well done," Gisborne compliments, running a gloved hand over the steel.

"I guess you're not completely useless," Jas admits reluctantly, removing the armor to look it over. "I'm still giving you all the soap in the manor when we get back, though." Gisborne clasps the guard's shoulder, his other hand moving to the small dagger he kept on him at all times. After he stabbed the Night Watchman, the dagger had become something of a good luck charm.

"Unfortunately, this secret can't be allowed to leave the forest."

"The front, Gilbert, not the back." The sharp blade of the dagger penetrates cloth and flesh, the curved point of it puncturing everything in its path. It was a sharp and quick movement, the guard collapsing onto his side to bleed out quickly. The man was completely useless, one of several that Hood had rendered unconscious again and again. A shocked cry from above has Gisborne's gaze snapping to the small overhang of rock, spotting four small heads peaking over.

"Get them!" Took doesn't even give a flick of her wrist as she freezes the four remaining guards in place, the look she sends him a threatening one.

"They're not to be hurt."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't order those children be killed for what they've seen."  _Besides the fact that it's against your laws_. That rule had been underlined three times, clearly something Rangers were passionate about aside for the rare instances like Garen.

"Hurt those kids and you're not getting laid for an entire month." Gisborne stares down at her in surprise, feeling his cheeks heat up in a blush at the mention of their sex life. More importantly, at allowing the men to realize she was strictly in charge of it aside from the few times she let him be in complete control. She wasn't kidding either, she really meant it.

"You heard her, men, don't harm one hair on their heads!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Come on, boys, let’s ride” is a quote I got from American Outlaws, an awesome western about Jesse James.


	71. A Feeling of Pride

Before that morning, Gisborne had thought he could withstand any number of angry women no matter how scary they were, but then Took had proven him wrong yet again. He'd seen her angry before, but nothing like when he'd told a guard to take the boys to the mine; not only had she yelled at him, but she'd also tackled him to the ground and threatened to "walk right back through that Portal with those kids and leave you here on your ass!"

She also called him an irritable twat, which just wasn't fair. Needless to say, the three boys were delivered to their parents promptly.

He was still worried about them telling his secret, but they had promised Took that they'd tell no one and she trusted them. They seemed to trust her as well, all of them eager to get away from Gisborne but not before giving his Ranger a tight hug and a thank you for saving them from early deaths in the mine.

"You shouldn't do things like that in front of the men," he grumbles after a moment of tense silence. "You should show me some respect."

"I'll respect you when you deserve respect," she bites out without looking at him. "Until that happens, I'll be in the manor." It takes a lot to keep him from shaking her, he had to remind himself over and over that things were different in her society. Men and women were equals, respect was earned by the strength and dedication of a person, and he would get nothing from her if he treated her like he would a woman from this age.

"I'm sorry, Took." She freezes mid-step and he follows suit once he realizes what she's done, turning to face her. Her head was tilted to the side, that sense of being analyzed coming back as she eyed him. "Those kids think of me as a villain and rightly so, it's why I can't trust them to keep my secrets. The mine was the only option I could think of to keep them silent because not all of us have the effect on children that you do."

"The reason they think of you as a villain is because you are one, Gisborne. Stop for a moment and try to think back on the last time you were genuinely nice to someone that wasn't me or Marian." He winces at the truth, remembering a childhood where being nice got your throat cut in some dark alley. He couldn't afford to be nice to people, not when he had a little sister to keep alive, but now he couldn't because it would be perceived as weakness.

"I know, but if you'd grown up like I did, then you'd be just like me." She looked like she was about to question him about it, but he cuts her off by raising his hand. He couldn't tell her that yet, it was too dark and the pain too fresh in his mind. "I have to take Vaisey to see the blacksmith if you want to join us." Her nose crinkles and he can't help the breathless laugh that escapes him.

"No thanks, any more time spent around that stench and I'll never get away from it." After a second's hesitation, she rises up slightly to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You're a good man underneath all the testosterone, Gisborne, I just wish you'd let some other people see that so the target on your back would be a little smaller." He smiles as she pulls away and heads for their home, a feeling of contentment washing over him.

He loved her, he was certain about that by now, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her even if it meant being a simple human. She drove him insane and challenged him every time he turned around, and she wasn't afraid to hit him if he needed it; on the other hand, there was the way she gently combed her fingers through his hair, her sweet smiles and the way she looked at him like he was something special, and just the small gestures like always having a warm bath waiting for him after a hard day or knowing when he needed someone to hold his hand. Lucifer's blessing or not, he wanted her to be his wife and he wasn't a man that backed down easily.

He was still smiling when he met Vaisey outside the smithy, though it vanished after one look from the older man. "What's got you so happy, Gisborne," he demands, the usual look of disdain firmly in place.

"The armor works as promised, my lord," he says instead of giving the real reason. "It's fine work."

"I'll be the judge of that." The inside of the workshop was filled with smoke, the foul odor that clung to the blacksmith making Gisborne want to gag.  _Took was right, this stench is awful_. The smith—Gisborne thought the man was called Geff—was hammering away and unaware that someone had entered, too focused on his work. "Oi," Vaisey shouts over the sound of ringing metal," put down the hammer and show us your work!"

_Tactful, as always_.

Gisborne wished he could get away with the remarks that Took did, but the fact was that Gisborne wasn't capable of pinning Vaisey to the ceiling. Unfortunately, he was fully capable of holding Vaisey's gloves and the Sheriff knew that all too well, which is why Gisborne was forced to take the things with a roll of his eyes. While the transaction happened, Geff had crossed the smithy to grab the breastplate, handing it over for Vaisey's inspection.

"This is it?"

"Indeed," Geff confirms proudly.

"Isn't it a bit thin?"

"Aye, but your man can tell you just how effective it is against arrows."  _I'm not his man_ , Gisborne thinks glumly, then rolls his eyes.  _But I suppose I actually am since no one else is brave enough to deal with Vaisey's outbursts on a regular basis_. Sometimes Gisborne really hated his life.

"And how's that possible?"

"A secret that only I know. Of course, you may travel all the way to Jerusalem to find another blacksmith if that is your wish."

"La-di-da, aren't you just so special?" Vaisey brings out a dagger that had been hidden inside his robes, a shower of sparks raining down on his exposed hand the second the blade makes contact with the armor. Vaisey's quick to shake his hand in pain, staring down at it with a frown. "That doesn't mean I'm impressed."

"Well, perhaps my other art will impress you." Geff leads the way to the opposite end of the shop, gesturing at Gisborne to grab an intricately carved box. It was heavy despite its size, but he had no trouble in bringing it over to the other men and setting it down on the narrow bench.

"It smells awful in here."

"To this artist, it is the smell of perfection." Geff opens the lid, revealing a small cache of sparkly rocks the size of a child's fist. "This is my secret ingredient."

"It better be important for the price you've demanded."

"Just watch this." He sets one of the rocks in a stone mortar, grinding it into a fine powder that flashed a little where the sun shone through a hole in the roof. Once satisfied with it, Geff flicked a few drops of water in the remains and great plumes of smoke rose from it, inducing a coughing fit in the Sheriff.

Gisborne groans, flinching away from the scent and wishing he'd just stayed with Took. She was the safer bet in all of this, smelling more like vanilla and that other thing that always made him want to bury his face in her neck. He wasn't sure what it was and was half-certain it was just something that all Rangers smelled of.

"Water for the Sher—"

"Not yet, seeing his face go all red and splotchy is funny," Took says, almost making Gisborne jump back from how sudden she'd appeared beside him. He gives her a look and she scowls as she uses her magic to push the smoke up through the hole. "You're no fun today."

"Ah, my lady, I see you couldn't resist seeing how the armor is made," Geff greets with a welcoming smile.

"Nah, I just came over because I realized how boring the manor is without someone to play checkers with."

"If you don't mind," Vaisey interjects," we came here for a reason not to chitchat." Took arches a brow but doesn't say anything, letting Vaisey take over the conversation. "Now, I want five thousand suits of armor as quickly as you can make them."

"That is a great undertaking."

"And your fee should more than cover it."

"And yet the King of France would pay double."

"The King of France doesn't have a merciless Ranger all too ready to torture stinky blacksmiths either." Vaisey takes half a step closer to the dark-skinned man, that cunning gleam in his eyes making Gisborne proud. He never would've thought his future wife could be used to get men working out of pure fear, but here it was unfolding in front of him. "Unless you'd rather have your insides become your outsides, then I suggest you do as I say without complaint." Geff spares one look in Took's direction and sees the way her face has lit up at the prospect.

"I'll have the suits made as soon as possible, my lord."

"Yes, I quite thought that'd be what you decided."


	72. Strange Proposals

Jas had planned on a nice walk through Locksley village just to clear her head and try to forget the smell that clung to the blacksmith, though her plan never got finished when something hard connected with the back of her skull. Another blow followed that one and she began a free fall into the darkness with no warning.

_Jas was exhausted as she smiled down at the little baby in her arms, his curls flat against his head from the water that had been used to clean him. He was quiet, the little fingers of one hand wrapped up in her nightgown as he stared up at her. "Hello," she whispers to him, cradling him gently against her chest. "Hello, handsome."_

_"He's a beautiful baby," Flynn smiles, sitting on the edge of her bed so he could see the baby better. "What are you gonna name him?"_

_"Garen." It meant guardian in German, a strong name for a strong boy. He was the cutest baby she's ever seen with skin the color of chocolate milk due to his mixed heritage and a button nose just over his tiny, perfect mouth. "Welcome to the world, Garen Chase." He makes a small noise, wide eyes looking up at her and then at his uncle._

_"He'll be a spoiled little man, you know that. Master won't keep you away for long and he'll want to see the newest member of the family."_

_"You obviously don't know our master that well." He gives her a wry look, brushing some of her sweat-soaked hair off her face. "My baby has a human father and that's pretty damning in everyone's eyes, so I doubt Master will ever welcome me back in the palace." She missed the constant noise and the feel of never being alone, but she was slowly growing used to the cottage._

_"No matter what, I won't abandon you, Jas." And she knew he wouldn't, her big brother was always the one to stand by her side even when it meant facing Lucifer. Flynn was her favorite brother, so sweet and comforting; he was the one person she could always count on. "I love you, Sister."_

_"Love you too, Bubby."_

Jas jerks upright, breathing hard and looking around wildly. "Easy," a familiar voice says, laying a hand on her shoulder," we're not here to hurt you, Took."

"Robin," she growls, trying to jerk away from him," you'll be lucky if I don't tear your throat out for this!" At this point, her anger was the only thing keeping the tears at bay, the dream hurting her far worse than her nightmares. It had been the day her baby was born, a storm raging outside and Jas screaming inside while her brother tried to keep it all together.

"I just want to know what happened to Daniel's friends. I know you're protective of the children, so I doubt you'd allow Gisborne to hurt them too much."

"They're in their homes, safe and sound." Robin gave her a disbelieving look, but is cut off by Allan and Will when the other two join them in the barn. "Oh, that's great, the whole posse's here."

"The kids?"

"Delivered to their homes by the Ranger," Will confirms, looking slightly out of breath. "Apparently she's been feeding all of them, too."

"That explains why only the adults seem grateful for our deliveries." Robin stares down at Jas, not faltering under her glare. "Well, I guess we should give the Ranger back to Gisborne before he gets worried."

"Ya know," she says, scooting further away despite her hands being bound behind her back," I really don't like the way y'all are lookin' at me right now." Robin just grins down at her, a strong pair of arms wrapping around her from behind making her stay still as a dirty cloth is stuffed in her mouth and another tied behind her head to keep her silent.  _Motherfucker_.

Little John grabs a fistful of her dress and hauls her to her feet, keeping ahold of her as he forced her to move. When this was over, she was going to kick some serious ass. Djaq was waiting for them all outside, though Much was nowhere to be found.

"I stopped at the blacksmith's," Djaq said as she fell into step with them," he uses special rocks to make the armor."

"Is the armor as good as Daniel said it was," Robin asks.

"Unfortunately, yes. It's Damascus steel and the smith is one of the best I've ever seen." Jas snorts, knowing the best smith in all the realms was Grim; he personally forged every scythe for his Reapers, his hands always warm and calloused from centuries of hard work. Reapers were a strange race, so compassionate despite the fact that they dealt with death on a daily basis. Hell, one of Jas's best friends was a Reaper.

"Where are the rocks right now?" Djaq grins, dark eyes glittering in the bright sunlight. Robin returns the grin with one of his own, one of his hands coming to rest on Jas's head. "Looks like you'll be some use to us after all, Took."  _I'm gonna knock his teeth so far down his throat that he'll be shitting out molars for a week_.

* * *

Jas has snuck into a lot of places in the past twenty-six years, but her own house had never been one of them until now. Still bound and gagged, she led the way up the servant's stairs to Gisborne's storage room where she'd seen him store the rocks before she changed clothes.

"Well, having you as a prisoner is convenient." She glares at Robin over her shoulder, kicking the stupid door open and leading the way inside. "Stay here and try not to make any noise." She watches as he moves closer to the window across the room where most of the bigger items were stacked, Jas inching forward with her gaze on a sheathed dagger she'd stolen from a prisoner in Nottingham Town. She had almost reached it when the sound of heavy footsteps started out in the hall. Before she could run forward, Robin had his own dagger pressed against her throat and the wooden box tucked under his arm. Gisborne filled the doorway a moment later, confused as to why the door was opened until he spotted Robin and Jas.

"Really," he asks, kicking the door closed and drawing his sword. "You know a cut throat won't kill her."

"No, but I bet it'll hurt her pretty bad."

"Why don't you let the woman go and face me like a man?"

"Because you don't fight fair, Gisborne." Jas and Gisborne lock gazes, a silent conversation happening between them that lasted only a second. It's true that Gisborne didn't fight fair half the time, but neither did Jas. Without warning, she kicks at Robin's leg as hard as she can and moves out of the way when he begins to fall. Gisborne cuts through the rope tied around her hands before moving on the attack.

"When will you just admit that Locksley's mine now?"

"When I'm six feet under!"

"I can arrange that," Jas snarls, tossing the cloths to the floor before using her magic to send Robin colliding with a wall. He was dazed, but still coherent enough to kick Gisborne in the stomach when the other man lunged forward.

"You've always been so dead set on having what's mine," Robin growls, getting to his feet and landing a hard punch to Gisborne's face before throwing the box at Jas. She catches it, but the unexpected weight threw her off balance and she stumbled over her own feet onto the bed. "First you tried to take my friends, then you tried to take my King—" another punch to the side of Gisborne's head "—then my home, and the woman I love!" Jas sets the box down and dives forward, tackling Robin to the ground.

"The only reason he'd be able to take those things from you is because you'd given up on them!" She lands a blow before he rolls on top of her, hands buried in her hair to drive her head backwards against the hard floor.

"I've never given up on them!"

"Get off of her," Gisborne roars, grabbing the back of Robin's shirt and throwing him across the room. "Don't you ever touch her like that again! You don't ever get to lay another hand on the woman I'm going to marry!" Robin had landed on the bed, Jas able to see him through her blurred vision as he brings the wooden box hard against Gisborne's head.

"You'll never be half the man your father was, Gisborne." And then Robin was gone out a window and the pair of them were left lying on the floor. Jas turns to look at her boyfriend, reaching out one hand to touch his wrist.

"How about we don't tell Vaisey about this?"

"That sounds fantastic," Jas agrees, scooting over to snuggle with him. "Were you serious about wanting to marry me?"

"Yeah, I was. What do you think about it?" She smiles up at him, glad to have him with her even if they did both look completely terrible.

"I think it'll give me a great excuse to kiss you anytime I want."

 


	73. A Hostage Situation

Jas and Gisborne were forced to clean themselves up after the beating Hood gave them, Jas changing into jeans and a white crop top so she wasn't walking around in a bloodstained dress for the rest of the day. "You know," Jas says as she comes out of her room, pulling her hair up into a messy bun," this whole mess could've been avoided if exercise wasn't a thing I had to do."

"You like walking," Gisborne reminds her with a smile.

"Yeah, that's true." It was rare that she actually enjoyed doing something that wasn't torture or binge watching Netflix, but it did happen occasionally. "Alright, let's go burst Vaisey's bubble, borrow a child from Nottingham, and tell Hood we'll maim the kid if he doesn't hand the rocks over."

"You're willing to maim a child?"

"No, but I'm willing to bullshit my way out of this situation." After playing poker with Anubis, you learned a thing or two, though it was mostly the Egyptian god  _really_  loved High School Musical. "Come on, I think I can talk Mark into standing with us as long as I give him an extra portion of food every other week."

"He's already getting enough food as it is." Jas shrugs and smiles at her boyfriend, amused by his pouting. He was so easily upset sometimes and she half-wondered if it was because no one would call him out on it for fear of reprisals. "Fine, but he's not getting any of those strawberries you make grow. Go and fetch him while I inform the Sheriff."

"GISBORNE!"

"Something tells me that he already knows," Jas says as the Sheriff barges inside, face a bright red. "I'm gonna go get that kid now."

"You're just going to leave me with him," Gisborne asks with raised brows. Jas looks from Gisborne's betrayed expression to Vaisey's furious one, her mind already made up even before she delivers a sympathetic pat to Gisborne's shoulder.

"Yep!" She easily sidestepped Vaisey when she made it to the first floor, jogging the rest of the way to the village and to the little house that Mark lived in with his mother. She worked in the castle's kitchens, the best baker in the whole of the Shire, so Jas didn't have to worry about anyone objecting to what she had to offer. "Mark, sweetie, come out here." The blond appeared a moment later, peering up at her through the partially opened door.

"What do you need, Miss," he asks, staring up at her without fear. It was nice that the children of the village didn't look at her like she was a monster anymore. To them, she was just a rich lady that brought them food and listened to their stories.

"I need you to help me get something back from Robin Hood." She kneels down so that they were on the same level, one brow arched up as he considered her words. "I can promise that you won't get hurt and I'll bring you a few extra sweets every other week."

"But isn't Robin Hood the good guy?"

"Ask me that on a day when he hasn't held a knife against my throat, kiddo." His brows scrunch together and she shakes her head. "Forget I said that. I just need someone I know he won't hurt, okay?"

"What do I have to do?"

"Stand beside me and look really scared."

"Will Gisborne be there?" Jas nods, not really seeing where Mark was going with this until he spoke up again. "Then I won't have to pretend." He opens the door a little wider, just enough to poke his head out and look around for Jas's companion. "I know you love him and all, but he scares me a lot. What if he actually hurts me to get something from Robin?"

"Mark, I give you my word that Gisborne won't lay one finger on you. If he does, I'll break it." She would, too, and Gisborne knew it. Mark's quiet for a moment, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he thought everything over.

"Alright, but only because you're nice."

"Kid, you're my new favorite person." He beams up at her, taking her hand and walking with her towards the center of the village where Vaisey and Gisborne were waiting for them. Mark tightens his grip on her hand and half hides behind her when they come to a stop, Jas wrapping an arm around him to help settle some of his nerves.

"People of Locksley," Gisborne shouts as loud as he can," let your precious Robin Hood know this! We either get our box and its contents back by tomorrow morning or the boy here will take Hood's punishment for him!" Jas is careful to keep her expression neutral as she moves Mark to stand in front of her, one of her arms wrapped loosely around his neck.

"C'mon," Jas murmurs so that only Mark could hear her," you'll be stayin' with us for the night. You know what that means?"

"A moldy dungeon," Mark asks as she leads him back towards the manor house.

"Nope, a warm bed and a full belly."

* * *

"The audience all opened their mouths wide for laughter, and stopped short in gaping silence; for the singer disappeared." Mark gasps, staring up at Jas with wide eyes while Gisborne had to stifle a laugh. He'd been read this part earlier that morning, but the boy had probably never been read to in his entire life. "He simply vanished," Jas continues reading," as if he had gone slap through the floor without leaving a hole!"

A noise behind them cut off the next part of the story and all of them turned to find Marian standing them. She looked nervous and unsure, though that could be because Gisborne was currently standing in just his breeches while a servant fixed on part of the armor on his legs to make sure it fits right.

"What brings you here this late," he asks, finishing up with one of the armor's leather straps.

"I'd like to speak with you about a personal matter," she answers, eyes darting to where Jas and Mark were seated. The pair were on the floor, Mark's head resting snuggly on her lap, already half asleep as Jas carted her fingers through his short hair. Gisborne nods towards the door, the servant standing and leaving the room quickly after a respectful nod. Jas and Mark remain where they are and he knew they wouldn't budge while Marian was here; Jas was too protective and Mark was simply afraid to be far from Jas while in the manor.

"What do you want?" He steps down off the crate, grabbing a goblet of wine off the table and taking a drink from it. It had been sweetened with honey by Jas, meant for her to take sips from occasionally, but she had pretty much ignored it.

"There is still bad blood between us—"

"No, there isn't," he interrupts. "I had feelings for you once, strong ones, but they weren't of love so much as wanting what Robin had. Took is the only woman I care about now, so you can leave if that's all you wished to discuss."

"I know that you love her and she loves you, I just wished to express how sorry I was for leaving you in that church." She lowers her gaze to her feet for a moment, gathering her courage and giving Gisborne a chance to look back to Jas. She was still in the same place he'd last seen her, unconcerned about Marian being there. "I just wanted to offer friendship."

"I know what this is about." He moves away from her, taking another drink of the wine as his anger surges. She was so obvious sometimes, but he could see it now. "You think I can grant you your freedom back, but I wouldn't even if I could. You may as well just leave now before you make a fool of yourself."

"Guy—"

"It wasn't a suggestion, Marian." He keeps his back to her, staring ahead of him at the dancing flames in the hearth. There's a tense silence and then he hears footsteps as Marian leaves his home.

"Are you okay?" The voice was small, coming from Jas's direction yet Gisborne recognized it as Mark's. He looks to the boy in slight surprise, taking in the wide eyes and the concern deep within them.

"I will be," he answers after a moment. "Thank you for asking." Mark shrugs as well as he can, his eyes closing again. Jas smiles up at him, that rare one that softened her features and blew him away. "He's a sweet boy, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is." He does laugh this time, bending down to ruffle the boy's hair. Mark was a sweet child, surprisingly quiet in everything he did when he wasn't playing outlaws in the woods. Gisborne wouldn't mind having him around more often, though he'd never say that out loud to anyone.

"There's a messenger at the door, my lord," a servant says upon entering the room.

"Send him in," Gisborne commands, voice quieter than usual. The servant turned to fetch the messenger, but Allan came waltzing inside without a care. "That's just what I needed. Jas, would you mind taking Mark upstairs and putting him to bed?" She nods, standing and tugging Mark up as well.

"Hey," he says when he spots Allan," aren't you one of Robin's men?"

"Uh, yeah," Allan nods with an easy smile," Rob sent me here to see if I can't barter for your freedom. They treatin' you right?" The little boy nods enthusiastically and grins up at Jas, squeezing her hand a little tighter than before. Gisborne could see the pain in her eyes as she thought of her son, but she still managed to press a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

"It's okay, Allan, Miss Jas won't actually let anyone hurt me."

"Well, I'll be sure to pass that news on to Robin." Jas rolls her eyes at the lie, leading Mark from the room and up the stairs to her old bedroom. "I got somethin' you'll want, but first I want some food that isn't squirrel."

"You just walked into my home and talked to my prisoner like it was the most normal thing in the world," Gisborne states. "I wouldn't press my luck if I were you." Allan shrugs, sitting at the table and pulling Jas's plate towards him. "What do you have for me that's so important?" He holds up a slip of parchment, Gisborne snatching it out of his hand and reading it over. It was a request for Mark to be brought to the castle, but the real interesting part was the seal. "How'd you get your hands on the Sheriff's official seal?"

"Someone gave it to Robin and he gave the note to me, simple as that. I've stopped him like you asked me to, so I think I've earned my coin."

"You're getting a free meal." Allan snatches the goblet of wine out of Gisborne's hand, drinking from it like that was completely normal for a man to do.

"What's Robin's plan if this one fails?"

"Go through with the swap like you want. Robin wouldn't risk you hurting the boy, so he'll do anything to keep 'im safe."

"Isn't that noble of him? What's the trick going to be?"

"What's that worth to you?" Gisborne moves over to the hearth, pulling out part of the marble to reveal a small box containing a purse mostly filled with gold. He takes it out and replaces the square of marble before dropping the purse on the table. "Pitch in the box with the diamonds. Robin plans to fire a flaming arrow once the boy is free and the diamonds go up in smoke just like your plan of invincible armor."

"What will you tell Robin when you show up without the boy?"

"You recognized me, we had a fight, and the Ranger tossed me out of the house."

"Not a bad idea." With a smile, Gisborne draws his arm back and delivers a hard punch to Allan's face. He jerks back with a grunt, rubbing at his cheek. "Now he'll actually believe you were in a fight."

"That's just rude!"


	74. Saving Gilbert

“Miss Jas,” Mark whines, looking at her over his shoulder,” the Sheriff’s taunting me again!”

“Either you two start getting along or I’ll make you both do laps around the castle,” Jas snaps, sending the pair a warning look. Gisborne snorts, wondering when Jas had become such a mother hen. “I swear, it’s like dealing with my uncle all over again.”

“Lucifer throws temper tantrums,” he checks with raised brows and a half-smile.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. This one time the donut shop got his order wrong, so he burned the place and everyone inside to the ground.” Jas shrugs, looking back down at her phone with avid interest. “One of these days, I’m gonna get this stupid WiFi spell to work.”

“What’s WiFi?”

“A magical thing, Gilly. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the brawl?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I usually am.” He presses a kiss to her cheek before making his way to the barn nearby, Jas’s eyes following him until his was inside. “Lucifer, he’s got a nice ass.” Marian makes a noise, scrounging her nose up. “Oh, like you don’t think so, too.” Gisborne had the type of ass that even straight men could admire. With Gisborne gone and her phone mostly dead, Jas has nothing else to do except check on her prisoner. “How you feelin’, kiddo?”

“Hot,” Mark complains, squinting up at her,” and my feet hurt.”

“I know, but it’s just for a bit longer.” She ruffles his pale hair and grins when he slaps at her hand. “You’re such a brave boy.” Mark puffs his chest out in pride and Jas has to struggle not to laugh.

“Just like Robin Hood.”

“Just remember that brave and foolish often go hand-in-hand, so you best be careful.” He nods, resting his head against her side while they waited. They’d been set up in the same spot for nearly two hours, a platform with chairs for Vaisey and the other nobles while everyone else was forced to stand or sit on the ground.

“He will come, won’t he?”

“There’s no doubt about that, sweetheart.” A small gasp leaves Mark and Jas follows his gaze, spotting the hooded man making his way through the crowd. “Speak of the Devil.” Jas keeps a hand firmly around Mark’s shoulders to keep him from running away, though the boy doesn’t even attempt to leave her side.

“Stay right there,” Vaisey commands when Hood was a few feet away. “Smith, go and meet him in the middle and make sure the black diamonds are accounted for.” Geff doesn’t look happy, but one look from Jas has him moving all the same. “If everything’s in order, then you can have the child.”

“No, Sheriff,” Robin states boldly,” you make the exchange to ensure your archers and the Ranger don’t kill me. If I am shot down by your men, then my men will return the favor.” The rest of the outlaws make their way through the crowd, weapons at the ready.

“Oh, la-di-da, shall we just get on with it, then?” Vaisey takes up the rope tied around Mark’s arms and gives a sharp tug to pull him out of Jas’s hold, he and Hood walking towards the meeting place.

“Allan, Djaq,” Little John instructs,” take the archers on the left, Much will take the Ranger, and Will is with me.”

“Archers,” Jas calls out in return,” I want them dead the second they fire. If any survive, you will not. Hood, if that boy is hurt in anyway, I will hunt you down and beat you like the dog you are.” Hood meets her gaze and gives a solemn nod, knowing she’d stay true to her word.

“Show me the diamonds,” Vaisey says, shoving Mark forward, but keeping the key to the iron manacles around Mark’s wrists. Hood hands the wooden box off to the smith without a word, Geff nodding to confirm they were all there. Vaisey throws the key to the outlaw before pulling a sack out of the pocket of his cloak, piling the diamonds inside of it. “I do apologize, but I know better than to trust an outlaw with anything remotely important.”

“Don’t worry, Hood, I’m sure you’ll get to blow something up in the next episode.” The disappointment was visible to everyone, only hidden for a moment when he bent down to free Mark.

“Gisborne, it’s your turn to come out and play.” The barn doors swing open to reveal Gisborne dressed in a complete suit of armor, the Damascus steel gleaming as he steps out into the sunlight. It was an intimidating sight for sure, like something straight out of Game of Thrones.

“Stay back,” Robin shouts as he and Gisborne start to sprint. “Throw me my sword!” Much does just that and the real fight commences.

Gisborne’s movements were awkward in the unfamiliar armor, but he still had the advantage as he knocked Robin’s sword out of his hands. The fight took them all over the village, Robin forced into a constant retreat as he used anything he could get his hands on in defense. At one point, Robin backed into a home only to be thrown out of a window a moment later, wooden splinters following him to the hard dirt of the ground.

“Damn,” Jas says proudly,” my man’s kicking ass today!”

“I think he deserves a treat when he gets home,” Vaisey agrees.

“He’ll get more than a treat if her keeps this up.”

“Run,” Much screeches as his master is thrown through a fence back to the starting point. Robin scrambles to his feet as Gisborne moves to reclaim his sword, the outlaw looking more panicked than Jas has ever seen him. “Robin!”

“Stay on the archers,” Robin commands. The entire chase reminded Jas of the time she’d seen her master’s cat hunting a mouse, Gisborne’s sword acting like his claws as he swung for Robin’s head and barely missed as the other man dived out of the way towards a pile of hay. He rolls to his feet, bouncing lightly on his toes as he waited for Gisborne to catch up.

“Something’s wrong,” Jas mumbles, taking a step forward. A second later, Robin had a bucket in hand and the contents of it were splattered over the armor, black as tar.

“What the hell was that,” Vaisey asks, but Jas doesn’t answer as she watches the scene with narrowed eyes.

“Is that that best you can do,” Gisborne taunts, lifting his visor to see better. Robin retreats a couple feet, grabbing a bow and arrow from the hay and readying it. It was small, probably a child’s, but there was a strip of cloth tied around the tip. “Playing at being an outlaw now instead of actually being one, Hood?” As Gisborne lowers the visor again, Robin sets the cloth alight and readies to fire the arrow.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Robin returns with a grin as Jas and Vaisey catch on to his plan.

“Oh fuck,” Jas blurts in surprise. “Gisborne—” His name had barely passed her lips when the black stuff on the armor erupted into flames, the pitch as effective as it would have been had it remained in the box. Gisborne dives into a large tub of water, struggling to put the flames out and not noticing as Robin climbs in with him. The upper part of Gisborne’s armor is removed quickly so that Robin can get a good hold on the front of Gisborne’s tunic, Robin holding a sword to his bared throat.

“I’m in the mood for another exchange,” Robin shouts,” you give me the black diamonds and I’ll let your henchman live!” Jas makes a strangled noise of fear, her stomach twisting unpleasantly as she watched on. She moves with Vaisey and the smith towards the tub, pace brisk and her temper sparking to life. “How long do you think you can hold your breath?” Robin dunks Gisborne under the water for a moment and then jerks him forward.

“Do you really think I’d trade diamonds capable of making such excellent steel for an idiot that’s more concerned about his love life than his job? No, I have everything I want and I can find a new Second-in-Command, so drown him if that’s what you wish. It’d be on your conscious, not mine.”

Jas could feel her anxiety becoming more pronounced as Hood ducks Gisborne under water again, holding him there for a good while before jerking him back out again. Had it been any other human in Gisborne’s position Jas wouldn’t have cared much and might have just made her way back to Locksley, but Gisborne had wormed his way past her walls and she was fond of the little shit.

“You know what I am, Hood,” she calls out, feeling her magic bubbling to the surface and manifesting in her narrowed gaze. “You know how dangerous fully grown Rangers can be and you’ll learn that firsthand if you don’t let Gisborne go now.”

“What are you going to do, Took,” Hood fires back defiantly, pushing Gisborne back under the water and holding him there. “Turn me into a toad?”

“That would be too easy.” Her voice dropped an octave as she took a step forward, the deadly calm that overtook her a familiar one. “Why hurt you directly when I could go for the woman you love or the man you so viciously protect?” With a crook of her finger, Much was dragged over to her before anyone could stop it and she used her telekinesis to keep him rooted in front of her, the fingers of one hand splayed across his chest. “You drown him and I’ll fill your friend’s lungs with water.”

Hood looked hesitant, green eyes flicking between Jas and Much as the latter closed his eyes in fear. She could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, the way he was taking shallow breaths, and the choking sobs he was holding back. “How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

“A simple spell, Hood, just a few words and Much here will be dead in two minutes.” When Hood doesn’t respond immediately, Jas begins the chant, almost singing the words just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Eleka nahmen nahmen a tum a tum eleka—“

“Alright,” he shouts, heaving Gisborne out of the tub and to the ground, the latter coughing up the water and pulling at the soaking clothes covering his chest. “Now let him go!” She shoves Much towards his master, keeping her furious expression on display until the outlaws had left and she was able to go to Gisborne’s side, helping him sit up.

“You okay, babe?”

“I’ve been better,” he coughs, tensing and then relaxing when she brushes inky black strands of hair off his face.

“C’mon, let’s get this armor off you.” She helps him to his feet and over to an alley, leaving the Sheriff and outlaws behind them. She had a feeling she’d kill them all if she turned around and that meant depriving her master of potential mischief, so she kept her head down until they met the servants waiting to help Gisborne get the armor off.

“You’re rubbish at magic, so what were you chanting earlier?” A blush colored her cheeks and she gives him a sheepish grin.

“The beginning lyrics to a song I know.” Gisborne lets out a bark of laughter, looking at her with disbelief. “It’s a good thing I know how to bluff.”

**The lyrics that Jas uses are from the song 'No Good Deed' from Wicked.**


	75. Brands, Strawberries, and Birthdays

Jas woke the best way possible Thursday morning, the smell of fresh strawberries nearby mingling with Gisborne’s scent of leather. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking until her vision cleared and she could make out her boyfriend resting beside her on the bed with a bowl of her favorite food resting on his lap. “Good morning,” he says with a smile.

“Morning,” Jas returns, voice rough with sleep.

“Something strange happened to me this morning.” Jas raises a brow, turning onto her side to see his face easier. “Vaisey sent a messenger here to tell us we had the next few days to ourselves and not to make an appearance at the castle.”

“Why do you suppose he wants that?” It was weird considering Jas and Gisborne were the only people allowed to hear Vaisey’s mumblings and half-cocked plans.

“I think it has something to do with the things I found shoved under our bedroom door just a few moments ago.” He holds up a simple piece of paper,  _real_ paper and not parchment. “Can you guess what this says?” Jas shakes her head and Gisborne clears his throat before reading the short note scrawled on the printer paper. “To the idiot this concerns,” he reads with a note of amusement in his tone,” it’s my baby sister’s birthday today and I’ll personally make your life hell if you don’t treat her like royalty. I’ve had a similar letter delivered to the twat you call a Sheriff stating that I’ll shove the letter in an unpleasant orifice should he call either of you in for work before Monday. Have fun, don’t make any babies yet, and stock up on strawberries.”

“Aw, he remembered.” Jas snatches the letter out of his hand and rereads it, a goofy smile making her lips curve upwards. It was Flynn’s elegant writing, all swirls and beautiful lines that spoke volumes of his calligraphy teacher back in seventh grade.

“Now, I just have one question for you.” She looks up, finding Gisborne with a card in hand this time. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

“I don’t know, I guess it slipped my mind.”

“How does your birthday slip your mind? It’s not just another day of the week, Jas.”

“You’re absolutely right, it’s also Halloween.” He raises a brow and she grins up at him in return. “My parents were really great planners and they thought it’d add to our reputation if their kids were born on Halloween, so that’s what happened.” Jas thought it was pretty cool since Halloween is her favorite holiday, kind of like Christmas for Reapers. “What’s with the card?”

“It was with the letter.” He hands it over to her, watching with a fond smile as she took in the cheesy ghost on the front with  **Happy Boo-thday** printed on the front in bold, orange letters. The inside of it is blood red with black writing, a Halloween poem Jas had enjoyed when she was little and a personal note from her brother demanding a call. “What’s the inside say?”

“When witches go riding and black cats are seen, the moon laughs and whispers, ‘tis near Halloween.” Her uncle used to keep her with him on the day of her birthday when she was a kid, taking a break from his work to walk with her through the cemeteries where human souls were kept for torture, whispering the poem to her as the wails of pain became more prominent. The note Flynn had written her was a simple thing yet so very much her brother that it made her miss him even more.

_My sweet little monster,_

_Spend your day doing your favorite activity: absolutely friggin’ nothing. I’ve sent a nice little note to your current boss and I’ve even sent one to your boyfriend (I don’t approve, by the way, ugh), so you should have no problems. Don’t forget about your favorite brother, I’d really like to hear you confirming you’re okay and aren’t being held hostage by the dork with the blue eyes._

_Love, Flynn._

_PS. That guy’s snoring could knock over the Great Wall, so how can you stand it?_

“I don’t snore that loudly,” Gisborne grumbles, reading the note with a glower. “You write the bastard back and tell him I don’t snore that loud.” Jas glances up at him, raising her brows as his expression of offense only deepens. “At least I don’t flip and flop in my sleep like you do.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Jas sits up with a grunt, stretching her arms over her head with a satisfied sound. “So, what’s on the agenda for today besides lazing around the house?” Gisborne picks up one of the strawberries and brings it up to her mouth, letting her take a bite of it before taking a bite himself.

“I thought you and I could get married.” She chokes on her bite, Gisborne beating on her back nonchalantly like he hadn’t just dropped a house on her. “That is, if you were serious in accepting two weeks ago.” Once she had her breath back and the bite of strawberry had been launched halfway across the room, she gives him a wide-eyed stare.

“I was completely serious, but I can’t marry you until the Rites are spoken over you by my master. Rule eighteen literally says the Ranger will be decapitated, dude.”

“Yes, but rule twenty-one says it’s possible as long as the human bears Lucifer’s brand.” That’s rarer than a human becoming a Ranger, only happening when the human in question is unable to physically meet the master for the Rites and the bracelet to be secured around their wrist. “Hold this.” Jas takes the bowl from him, watching curiously as he turns his back to her and lifts his shirt. On his left side, just above his hip, was a familiar mark consisting of a closed circle and intertwining snakes that formed an X.

“You received the brand,” she breathes in shock, reaching out to run the tips of her fingers over the raised flesh. “When?”

“Almost three weeks ago now. A rather angry-looking  _thing_  with green hair administered it.”

“Samil, the Court Messenger.” Gisborne nods and lowers his shirt again, relaxing back against the headboard like it was completely normal. “Holy shit, Guy, why wouldn’t you tell me about this?”

“Slipped my mind.” She gives him an unamused look, slapping his shoulder with the flat of her hand. “So, do you want to marry me today or not?” She takes a moment to think about it, taking in the hope that made Gisborne’s eyes shine like twin suns, the way his hands shook slightly from the fear of rejection, and her own heart fluttered at the thought that this perfect man actually  _wanted her_.

He loved her and she loved him, it was obvious and stated at least three times a week even if it made Vaisey nauseated. She wanted to spend the rest of her life knowing she would wake up and find him nearby, to know she would be able to see him read in the evenings and hum as he sharpened his sword. She wanted to be able to brush his hair off his face and look into those eyes, those wonderfully blue eyes that stared right into the heart of her.

“I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rule 18 of the Ranger Rulebook: Any Ranger that married a human is to be decapitated and buried.
> 
> Rule 21 of the Ranger Rulebook: Marriages may happen as long as it meets Lucifer’s approval. Humans with Lucifer’s brand who are currently unable to have the Rites spoken over them may marry if Lucifer’s permission is given and a proxy is present to speak Lucifer’s Words.


	76. Flynn's Wake-up Call

Flynn had just crawled into bed when his phone began to ring, the Star Wars theme far too loud at two in the morning. Not wanting the boys to wake up, he quickly grabs the phone and accepts the call without looking at the screen. Part of him hoped it was Isla calling to let him know she and their daughter had landed safely in Maine, but he supposed he should’ve known better than to expect his wife that early.

“How do you feel about officiating a wedding?” His sleep-fogged brain lagged behind, but when it finally caught up with what had just been asked, he shot up in bed with his eyes wide open.

“The fuck you mean,” he shoots back, throwing the covers off him and standing up to pace beside his bed. “You’re not old enough to get married.”

“Hon, you were married when you turned eighteen.”

“Yeah, but you’re my baby sister and I say no!”

“So did Isla’s brother.”

“That’s because he’d tattooed my ass the week before!” He hears a muffled snort of laughter on Jas’s end, too deep and rumbling for it to belong to his sister. “Was that the fucker that wants to marry you? You tell him I’m gonna slap him so hard his clothes will be out of style when he wakes up!”

“Dad,” a boy shouts from down the hall,” shut the hell up, we’re tryin’ to sleep!” He wasn’t sure yet whether that was Colm or Ardan, but he knew both would be intolerable in the morning if they didn’t get a solid five hours of sleep.

“Sorry, go back to bed.”

“Tell Aunt Jas that we said hi!”

“The boys say hi.” There’s another muffled laugh on Jas’s end and he can hear her mumble something away from the speaker that led to more laughter. “Could you not flirt while you’re talkin’ to me?”

“Sorry, Flynn, he was going over the rules again and asked why we make a fuss over frozen yogurt. Anyway, you should bring the kids and my sister to the wedding later today.”

“Nope, Isla’s away trying to break a freakin’ curse and the twins are on lockdown until they figure out that using their magic to help them sneak out of the house is bad.” He pauses a moment, remembering all the times he used his persuasion ability to convince the guards that it was totally alright for him to leave the palace and party. “Besides, they both have history papers due on Monday and they haven’t even started the research.”

“Don’t worry, Colm’s procrastination-induced papers always get him an A.” She was right about that; the kid did his best work under pressure and a crippling fear of failing classes (and Flynn’s reaction to bad grades). Isla was much more laidback about those sorts of things, but Flynn always felt his father had it right about wanting his kids to do their best in their studies.

“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that they’re still grounded. No wild parties, no traveling back to Ireland for the weekend, and no weddings.”

“What about my niece?”

“Eilis is with her mother in Maine, she’s trying to get a better handle on the Banshee side of her heritage.” Just last week, she’d thrown a fit about something and had shattered an entire row of windows.

“Fine, but please tell me you’ll be the guy to officiate it. I don’t want to show up and find Samil at the Portal; the guy doesn’t look good in a suit and he yells everything.” Flynn winces, recalling how the Messenger had practically screamed about Lucifer’s reaction when Flynn and Isla were married. If he remembers correctly, Basil Took had knocked the Messenger out five minutes later. “Please, Bubby!”

“Alright, but I don’t approve.”

“You don’t have to approve, you just have to show up and not kill my fiancé.”

“Fine, but I’m getting a couple hours of sleep first or I won’t be held responsible for any possible maiming that will take place.” He hangs up before she could say anything else, tossing his phone onto the nightstand and the collapsing face-first on the bed. It felt too large without Isla next to him, but he supposed he’d just have to get used to that for the next week or so.

 _She’ll be back soon and Eilis will tell me all about the curse and the seaside town they visited_.

It was a comforting thought and he clung to it viciously whenever his sons thought playing football in the house was a great idea. Don’t get him wrong, they were great kids and really helped with taking care of their baby sister, but they could be a handful sometimes. At sixteen, they’d recently gotten their driver’s licenses and wanted to drive everywhere, but they were mainly driving him crazy.

“One week,” he groans into his pillow,” just one more week, Flynn.” 

* * *

 

Two hours of sleep ended far too early for Flynn, but he crawled out of bed all the same. He takes a quick shower, muscles finally relaxing under the spray of the hot water; he would’ve stayed in there all day if it were possible, but he’d made a promise. He takes his time in washing up before turning the water off and getting out again.

“Jas is so lucky I love her,” he grumbles as he dries off and dresses. “She’s also lucky I don’t smack her over the head when I see her.” He grabs the eyeliner pencil off the counter, outlining his eyes in a thin line of gold as he did every day since he was promoted to First Ranger. The title commanded that he trained new recruits in Hell for a month every year, but he got more free time to raise his kids and spend time with his wife. He wasn’t fond of the eyeliner, but it was either wear it or wear a line of medals on all his shirts and he wasn’t the flashy type.

“Give me the book,” Colm shouts from somewhere downstairs, followed by a thump and muffle cursing.

“Hey, no pulling my hair,” Ardan shouts a moment later. There was more thumps and shouts, a few instances of glass breaking when the yells got a bit louder. Flynn just rests his hands on the counter and stares at his reflection, wondering if it was actually smart to leave the twins by themselves.

“Knock it off down there,” he yells after something else shatters.

“Sorry, sir,” the boys call back in unison. He lets out a long sigh, running his hand over his head. His hair was kept short compared to everyone else in his family (his brother aside), it was close to his head but just long enough for it to curl. Content with his looks, he moves back into his bedroom to grab an overnight bag that was always packed and then moves down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Ardan, you know better than to take your brother’s books.”

“He flicked my ear,” Ardan returns, looking up from his notebook when Flynn talks. “Where’re you going so early?” Colm looks up now too, dark brows furrowing as he takes in the bag and nice clothes.

“Your aunt has decided to get married today and wants me to speak the words.”

“Can we come?” Both boys looked hopeful, identical features formed into pouts their mother had taught them. They had several of her features, actually, though they’d gotten a beautiful skin tone that reminded Flynn of toffee. “Please, Dad, please?”

“No, you’ve both got a paper due and you’re grounded.”

“But it’s Aunt Jas,” Colm protests, sitting up a little straighter on his stool. “She’d be crushed if we weren’t at her wedding!”

“It’s not happening, so drop it.” He used his stern Dad tone, the boys knowing better than to argue with it. “I’ll only be gone one night at the most and I expect those papers to be written and revised by the time I get home. If they’re not, then I’m calling the master and letting him lecture you on the importance of sharp minds.” Twin groans are the only reaction and he grins up at them. “I love you guys.”

“Love you, too.”

“I know you do,” Ardan states with a grin,” we’re very lovable young men.” Flynn chuckles, ruffling Ardan’s curls as he passes by.

“You know the rules, no wild parties and your uncle Jake isn’t allowed to tattoo any part of you!” Jake was Isla’s brother and a massive pain in the ass when it came to that tattoo gun of his. “I mean it, if I come home and find you both with tattoos, then I’m gonna show y’all why I became First Ranger in the first place.”

“No promises!”


	77. A Wedding in the Forest

The woods were silent as Gisborne moved through them towards the Portal where he knew a Ranger would be waiting for him. It was strange to think he was doing this again, trusting a woman with his heart, but this time it felt different; this time he didn’t feel the need to run away, he didn’t lack any faith in the woman he’s chosen to marry. That was the strangest thing about it all, his blind trust that everything was going to go perfectly.

Waiting for him beside the dark pond is a man a bit taller than Gisborne, his skin dark and his black hair just long enough to curl. He had a broad nose and high cheekbones, the same lip shape as Took’s except that his were plumper, he was well-muscled, and had a dark stubble covering his cheeks. The man was dressed in a thin, pale blue shirt with sleeves that were pushed up to his elbows, an unbuttoned vest over the shirt, a pair of black trousers, and simple boots.

“You must be Flynn,” Gisborne says by way of greeting, meeting the man’s steady gaze. His eyelids drooped slightly and were lined in gold, though that was the only bit of makeup on him.

“And you’re the human that stole my baby sister’s heart,” the man returns. “I just want you to know that I’ll beat you into an unrecognizable pulp if you betray her in any way.”

“I’d let you.” He would never hurt Took if he could help it and he would gladly take the beating from her older brother if he did. “What exactly are we supposed to do?”

“You two say these vows and I officiate so that everything is done correctly for my master’s liking. It’s not rocket science, Gisborne.” Gisborne swallows hard, taking the scrap of paper that Flynn had produced and staring down at the neatly written words. He wasn’t an official Ranger yet, but he was close enough that a marriage had been approved by Lucifer himself.

When Gisborne looks up again, Flynn’s stoic expression has melted into such pride that Gisborne knew who would be waiting behind him. Swallowing down the last of his nerves, he turns and takes in the sight before him. Took was standing just a few feet away, her head lowered and a blush tinting her cheeks pink. There were no words to describe how she looked, radiant and perfect didn’t do her justice as she glanced up at him past the fringe of her lashes, clutching at a bouquet Peonies. Her dress was off-white and strapless with a band of sparkling silver wrapped around it just under her breasts, and her shoes had her just about even with his height. Just seeing her like this, as nervous and excited as himself, made him draw in a sharp breath.

“Close your mouth, dude,” Flynn whispers, tapping the bottom of Gisborne’s chin. It wasn’t until then that Gisborne realized that his mouth had fell open at some point, a dark blush making his cheeks burn as Took reaches his side and they face her brother. “Alright, you two lovebirds ready to tie the knot?” Beside him, Took lets out a snort of amusement, beaming at her brother like he was one of the best things in her world. “I’ll take the dopey smiles as a yes, then.”

“Flynn, do your job,” Took says, but laughs all the same and Gisborne laughs as well. With Took around, Flynn was a lot more relaxed and Gisborne could see that they had a calming effect on one another.

“We three Rangers are gathered in this sacred spot for an exchanging of vows and of hearts,” Flynn starts, a smile still tugging at his lips. “This day will mark the eternal joining of Jasmine Alexis Took and Guy Crispin Gisborne, a bond will be forged like the forging of iron, and bloodlines will twine like our master demands.” At his nod, Took and Gisborne face each other, not yet touching.

A small table was set between them, a silver candelabra with three candles spread out on it, though only one candle was lit. Took hands her bouquet off to her brother before starting the vows. "With this hand I will lift your sorrows.” She holds up her right hand for emphasis. “Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way into darkness.” With her right hand, she grabs one of the dark red candles off the table, lighting the wick and setting it in one empty slot of the candelabra. “With this ring…” She takes a ring from her brother’s outstretched hand and slides it on his finger, letting her touch linger before pulling back. “.... I ask you to be mine."

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows,” Gisborne repeats, raising his own hand as she had. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way into darkness.” He lights his own candle, a black one with Took’s name engraved in the side of it. “With this ring, I ask you to be mine.” He slides the ring on her finger, the same one she’s worn every day since he first gave it to her months ago.

“With these words spoken and the candles lit,” Flynn proclaims proudly,” I announce you married with Lucifer’s blessing.” Took moves around the little table quickly, throwing herself against him in a kiss that had him breathless. Gisborne has kissed plenty of people in his thirty-two years of life; all of them men and women that looked at him as though he were prey they wanted to devour or a victory they would claim. Rough and hard and suffocating kisses that left him feeling sick, the kind of kiss he endured just to make sure his younger sister had food in her belly.

Even now, even with all the control he had over his life, he still woke in a cold sweat and expected one of those people to walk inside and force their cold wet lips on his with a viciousness that branded him.

This kiss was nothing like those, this kiss made a heavy weight lift off his chest, made him feel dizzy and love drunk and like he was flying. It was soft and warm against his lips, no trace of malice. This kiss made him want to yell to everyone that he had found his love and would never let her go again.

Kisses shared with Jas were brand new to him, addictive and so full of promise that he knew she would try her absolute hardest to keep even if it meant going up against a fallen angel. Jas's kiss meant a love that would last lifetimes.

This really has been the perfect day.

* * *

 

Jas pulls back a little from her husband when she hears someone clearing their throat somewhere to her right. Flynn was staring at them with raised brows, looking tired and more than a little annoyed at the display. “Seriously,” he asks,” y’all have been stuck together for two years and you still gotta do this to me?” Laughing, Jas moves to give her big brother a hug and a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“I love you, Bubby,” she murmurs as he wraps both arms tightly around her.

“I love you too, monkey.” She had missed him so much that it was unreal, the only sibling she didn’t want to murder viciously. Plus, he’d given her a great sister-in-law, the sweetest niece ever, and two nephews she could raise hell with. “Alright, go have a dance with your hubby.”

“You mean you actually brought your iPod?” He waggles his eyebrows with a goofy smile, nudging Jas towards Gisborne’s outstretched hand.

“Does this mean you’ll tell me which song it is you want to be played at you wedding,” Gisborne inquires, both of them moving away from the Portal so they could dance without worrying about falling in.

“Actually, this is a different one. It’s not a slow one, so you better be prepared, Gilly.”

“I think I can keep time with you.”

“ _So she said what’s the problem, baby_ ,” the song starts a second later, Gisborne tossing his head back in one of those deep laughs that Jas lived for. “ _What’s the problem? I don’t know, well, maybe I’m in love. Think about it, every time I think about it, can’t stop thinking ‘bout it. How much longer will it take to cure it? Just to cure it ‘cause I can’t ignore it if it’s love. Makes me wanna turn around and face me, but I don’t know nothing ‘bout love._ ”

Gisborne swings her around gracefully, making her feel like a princess at her first ball as they move so smoothly together. They never had to pause and think about what they would do next because they could basically read each other’s minds by now, figuring out the next step of the dance just like they would do in training.

“ _Come on, come on, turn a little faster! Come on, come on, the world will follow after! Come on, come on, ‘cause everybody’s after love!_   _So, I said I’m a snowball running, running down into the spring that’s coming all this love; melting under blue skies, belting out sunlight, shimmering love._ ”

Jas laughs along with Gisborne as they complete another turn, Jas spinning beneath his hand before resting her free on his shoulder, and they were off again. She was breathless, but she’d never felt so full of energy in her life as they danced together over colorful leaves and dancing shadows.

“ _Well, baby, I surrender to the strawberry ice cream never ever end of all this love. Well, I didn’t mean to do it, but there’s no escaping your love. Ohh! These lines of lightning mean we’re never alone, never alone, no, no!_ ”

He lifts Jas up by her waist as easily as anything, spinning around once before setting her lightly on her feet again. And he was smiling, a full, real smile that had her heart beating faster and butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. He was so beautiful as the dappling sunlight fell across his face and lit it up in shades of pale gold and even paler blue.

“ _Come on, come on, move a little closer! Come on, come on, I want to hear you whisper! Settle down inside my love! Come on, come on, jump a little higher! Come on, come on, if you feel a little lighter! Come on, come on, we were once upon a time in love._ ”

Jas and Gisborne slow their pace as he draws her closer against him, pressing her tight to his chest so he could rest his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent and taking in the way his ungloved hands felt against her; smooth yet hard from years of work, but so gentle as they held her. She never wanted this perfect moment to end.

 _“We’re accidentally in love…._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their wedding song is Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows because it really seemed to fit them considering how hard they first fought it. Hope you guys liked it!


	78. A Honeymoon in the Woods

"Where are we going," Jas asks as they go deeper and deeper in the woods. They've been riding all morning and she'd be honest, her ass was getting a little sore now.

"You'll see," Gisborne replies with a half-smile, cutting his gaze towards her. "How do you feel this morning?"

"Well-rested and more than a little satisfied." She grins at him, reaching out her free hand to grasp his. After the wedding, they'd spent the afternoon in the sitting room with Flynn, just talking to him and reminiscing. By the time Flynn had returned to his home and two rowdy sons, it was late and they'd just wanted to snuggle under the covers and sleep for ten years. "You wanna play Candyland when we get to wherever we're goin'?"

"That sounds wonderful." He squeezes her hand and she's never been happier in her life. Sure, planning a wedding on such short notice had been nerve-wracking and she was so glad that Todd had been able to stop in with a nice dress for the wedding even if he couldn't stay, but the day had gone so nicely and she'd been able to see her big brother again. "Ah, here we are." They came to a stop in the middle of a large clearing and Gisborne helped her to dismount.

"We're spending our honeymoon in a cabin," Jas asks skeptically as she stares up at the place. It was nice, well taken care of and secluded for privacy, set on a hill that sloped down gently behind the house to a small stream if her hearing wasn't failing her.

"Yeah," Gisborne nods, smiling down at her.

"In the woods?"

"Is there something wrong with that, Took?" She looks up at him, easily spotting his rising disappointment at her not liking the idea. She was black and, in her experience, most black people didn't tend to survive horror movies that take place in a cabin in the frickin' woods. Despite all of that, she gives a little shrug and walks up onto the porch.

"Nah, but I'm blaming you if a bunch of college kids start killin' themselves all over the property."

"That seems fair, though I've no idea what a college is." The cabin was fairly small with a kitchen, a sitting room, and a bedroom; several windows allowed light to stream inside to reveal dark wood floors and freshly dusted furniture. He'd obviously sent someone ahead to make sure the place was clean and presentable, probably one of the younger servants since all of the older ones had helped prepare the wedding meal.

"This is great, Gisborne, it really is." He grins down at her, nudging her with his shoulder. "How about you dress in something a little more comfortable and meet me by the stream outside?" He cocks up a brow, looking down at his usual outfit of black leather. "Trust me, babe, wet leather does  _not_  feel good."

"You have much experience with that?" Jas blushes a dark red at that and refuses to meet his eye, instead finding the wood floor much more interesting. "Relax, dearest, I don't care about any leather experiences you've had as long as the next one is shared with me."

"Don't hold your breath on that one. And besides, it wasn't sexy in the least." He sends her another look and she rolls her eyes. "I was trying out a pair of leather pants to see what the big deal about them was and Dash knocked me into the lake because he's an asshole."

"You're right, that's no fun at all." He presses a chaste kiss to her forehead before walking into the bedroom with their bags, kicking the door shut so he could change. Frankly, him not feeling comfortable changing clothes in front of people is something Jas found hilarious since he had no problems walking around shirtless for the first part of the mornings.  _It's not like I haven't seen it all already anyway_.

 

She shrugs, toeing off her shoes and stuffing her socks into the Converse so she wouldn't worry about losing them later. She hated shoes, always has, and she'd go without them whenever the opportunity arose for her to do so. Her uncle, the ever so practical Satan, never failed to face palm whenever he caught her running around his palace bare-footed.  _I'm surprised his hand hasn't stuck to his forehead by now_. 

Knowing Gisborne would be primping, she moves back outside and walks around to the back of the cabin, spotting the stream at the edge of the clearing. The water would be freezing, but it would feel good on a weirdly warm day with the sun beating down on them. At least, she really hoped her hubby felt that way.

The grass surrounding the cabin was trimmed so that it barely brushed the tops of her feet, soft and a dark green despite the fact that the leaves were already in shades of burnt orange and brown. But the stream was clear and showed the rounded pebbles on the bottom of the bed, and Jas longed for the summers from her childhood where the only concern she had was whether or not her master would have time to skip rocks over hellfire with her.

With a pleased smile, she seats herself on the edge of the stream and rests her feet in the water, wigging her toes past the rocks and into the white sand. It was cool against her overheated skin and the sound of trickling water allowed her to relax as she leaned back on her palms. For a while the only sounds she heard were of small animals scurrying around in the bushes and the stream, so when she heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming from the forest her mind instantly turned to thoughts of the undead lurking nearby.

Was it rational? No. Was it the first thing a normal person would think of? She sincerely doubted it. Did either of those questions matter when all she could think of was that some undead thing was about to pop out of the woods like a damn daisy? Hell nah.

“If you’re some ghost or a zombie,” she calls out, dark eyes focused on the trees,” then you best be getting away from here because this bitch ain’t afraid to make you die twice. I’ve seen every episode of Supernatural, I know how to deal with ghosts and shit!”

“I didn’t take you as the superstitious type,” came the familiar voice of Robin Hood. He appeared a moment later, his smile cocky and his posture so sure that she wanted to make the fucker trip.

“Ghosts are real, Hood, I’ve seen them up close and personal.”  _Zombies on the other hand…_  They weren’t real, she was well aware of that fact, but it didn’t stop her overactive imagination from scaring her shitless sometimes. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve found something you might take an interest in.”

“A pizza?”

“I have no idea what that is, but you’ll be the first person I’ll alert if I find one. What I’ve found today, however, is a camp that has been completely destroyed and its occupants with it.” Jas raises a brow, not seeing why he would be bringing this to her since he knew good and well they wouldn’t send men out into the forest just to tear apart a camp. “A man and a woman were severely beaten and stabbed to death, but their possessions weren’t taken.”

“Well, I haven’t killed anyone lately and I know Vaisey hasn’t.”

“That’s not why I’m here.” He turns and nods to someone behind him, then Will comes out of the woods as well. Her brows twitch when she notices a small bundle in his arms, wrapped in a dirty cloth that looked like it might have been a scarf at some point. “ _That_  is why I’m here, Took.” She rises and crosses to their side, Will lowering his arms slightly so she could see what had Hood so anxious.

“A baby?”

“She was still alive when we stumbled upon the camp. I don’t know if the people responsible just couldn’t have the death of a child on their hands or if the mother used her last breath to save it, but the child is unharmed.”

“And fussy,” Will adds with a small frown,” I think she’s hungry.”

“Does she have a name,” Jas asks, resting her hand atop the baby’s head. She couldn't be more than a month old and her tiny size hinted at a premature birth.  _Garen was premature, too, and he was so small_.

“Alice. Her parents used to work in Locksley, but the Sheriff kicked them out before you came since they couldn’t pay their taxes. That’s why they were living in the woods.” Little Alice made a noise of protest as Jas took her into her arms, cradling her head against Jas’s heart. The sound soothed her just like it had Garen and Alice fell back into a light slumber. “Think we can come inside and discuss what to do with the baby?”

“Alright, but no making a fuss when Gisborne gets prickly.” 


	79. Riley Liu, Reaper Extraordinaire

Gisborne was just as pissy as Jas had guessed he'd be, his face red as he held in his shouts of anger because she'd threatened him with a broken nose if he woke little Alice up. Now they were all in the sitting room, the entire group tense apart from Jas since she was still holding the baby. "Y'all gonna talk or just stand there glaring at each other," she asks softly, patting Alice's bottom rhythmically.

"I dunno," Gisborne says," I'd like to punch Hood in the face, but that might wake up the baby."

"Lucifer's love, you're all children." Jas shakes her head, talking more to the baby in her arms than the men in front of her. "The men in tights over here found a destroyed camp, a murdered couple, and this adorable child in the middle of freaking Sherwood. Are we all caught up now or is there more to this little visit?"

"There's more," Robin nods. "The reason we came here is because you're the best person to take care of the child."

"Don't you have a girlfriend who could do that? You know, average height, pretty, annoying as hell on most days?"

"Marian hasn't been a mother before." Jas goes rigid as she narrows her eyes at the outlaw. How would he possibly know that when she'd only ever told one person in this realm? "Don't give me that look, it was obvious."

"No it wasn't," Will objects," I didn't know she was a mother."

"Well, it was obvious to me anyway. Mark told me how you treated him in Locksley, that you stayed with him until he fell asleep and seemed to know exactly how to soothe him when Gisborne or the Sheriff were around. Only mothers are capable of that." Jas gives a brief shake of her head, wondering how many other people had guessed it by now. Her love of children wasn't something she hid, it was in her laws that little children were not to be harmed, but it was also her way of making up for not being able to protect her son.

"You tell anyone else," Jas threatens after a moment," and I'll show you how good I am with my knives." He holds up his hands and bows his head, knowing better than to actually get on her bad side. "Now, the best thing we can do is get ahold of someone that saw what happened to Alice's parents."

"There were no signs that anyone else was in the camp," Will states. "Well, aside from the attacker anyway."

"They were dead when you found them, so obviously their souls and memories have been collected." The three men send her confused looks and Jas remembers that she's dealing with humans. "Just leave it to me, I know a person that can help us out. Until then, Gisborne and I will watch the baby while you two…. Uh, do whatever it is y'all usually do on nice days that isn't stealing from the rich and giving to the poor."

"So… Sleep?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Gisborne escorts the two other men out of the cabin and Jas goes into the bedroom, lying the baby in the center of the bed between two pillows to keep her from rolling off. "We're gonna figure this out, sweetheart, and then we'll find you a place to live." When Alice doesn't stir, Jas moves to the living room again where Gisborne was building a fire in the mantle. "She should sleep for a couple of hours, but we'll need to find a way to feed her."

"Why would you agree to help with this when we're supposed to be doing everything except working," he demands in his quiet, rumbling voice without facing her. "It's our honeymoon, a time for relaxing and just talking to each other, Took."

"So you would've happily shipped that little girl and the murder to someone else to deal with if you were here with Marian?" He lets out a sigh and sets the poker down before standing and facing her. He was scowling again and she wondered if his face would just stick that way one of these days.

"Probably not considering you both have a fondness for children." He grasps at her hips, Jas tilting her head back a little so she could see him better. "Alright, but you're mine once it's all over."

"You got yourself a deal, Lord Gisborne."

"Good, Lady Gisborne." She grins up at him, giving him a peck on the cheek before stepping back out of his arms. If she let him hold her like that for much longer, then this case would never get solved. "How are you supposed to get ahold of whoever knows things about the murders? Any witnesses will either be in hiding or dead as well."

"Yeah, my buddy's not a witness and she can't be killed at all basically."

"Another Ranger?"

"Nope, she's a Reaper."

"And how do you plan on talking to her?" Jas pulls out her pocket knife and flicks it open, cutting a shallow line across her palm and letting the silver blood pool there as the wound slowly closes. She focuses all of her energy on it, sending out a mental request for some help of the Reaper variety until the silver blood began to ripple and change. Dark blue tendrils started snaking in the depths, swirling and dancing like smoke, growing more and more until the blood was no longer Jas's.

There's a brilliant flash of light and then a young woman is standing a few feet away, her dark hair in a messy braid and a yellow beanie covering the pointed tips of her ears. Her skin was as pale as Jas's was dark and her limbs were long even if the person they belonged to was short, her eyes showing her clear Chinese ancestry. The woman wore a pair of comfy sweats and a large tee with paint splattered over it, a bag of Cheetos in one of her hands while the other clutched at the charm that hung from a silver chain. Jas knew without being able to see it that the charm was in the shape of a scythe and burned black.

"Gisborne, meet Riley Liu."


	80. Honeymoon Interrupted

It took about five seconds for Riley to realize what had happened, looking around the tiny cabin with a bit of confusion until her gaze landed on the black woman a few feet away. Her face breaks out into a grin and she lunges forward, wrapping her best friend up in a tight hug with a squeal of excitement. "You're not dead!"

"Uh, no," Jas says, patting Riley's back awkwardly," not the last time I checked." Riley pulls back just enough to look her friend over, checking for any fatal wounds and finding none. "Why exactly would you think I was dead, Ri?"

"Who's this?" She was looking at the tall, brooding man a few feet away from them, dressed in a pair of black breeches and nothing else. His entire body practically screamed Greek god, all chiseled muscles and perfect cheekbones, blue eyes so pale they could almost be gray in the dim lighting. He had black hair that was straight as a pin and brushed his broad shoulders, a few strands stuck in the light stubble covering his cheeks. "Is he single?"

"No, now why'd you think I was dead?"

"Hi, I'm Riley." She holds out her hand expectantly, wiggling her fingers until the man took a hint and shook her hand.

" _Riley Liu, I demand to be told why you thought I was dead!_ " Riley jumps back in surprise, her head snapping in Jas's direction. The other woman was pissed off, her eyes bright and hands clenched into tight fists that made her knuckles go white.

"It was just a bad feeling, that's all." Riley shrugs, patting her stomach where the feeling had been. "You know, the stabby kind of feeling I only get when someone close to me has been…. Well, stabbed." She narrows her eyes at the Ranger, who carefully avoided Riley's gaze. "You were stabbed, weren't you?"

"Twice," the man comments.

"Betrayal," Jas shouts, though her anger had pretty much burned away.

"Consider it payback for getting that baby." Riley sends Jas a look, clearly conveying the thought of  _you stole a fucking baby?_  Jas waves the look off and shakes her head, the gesture familiar from the time she'd done the exact same thing after stealing a lion cub from the local zoo.

"It's a long story, but the point is that we need your help finding out who killed a couple of people in Sherwood."

"Can you really do that, Miss Liu?"

"Yeah," Riley nods," easy-peasy. Who is this guy?"

"I am Sir Guy of Gisborne," he tells her proudly, his chest puffed out like all important men tended to do when they thought they were hot shit. "Lord of Locksley, Second-in-Command of Sheriff Vaisey, and the husband of Took." Riley's dark eyes widen a fraction and she looks to her friend again, Jas pointing at her as a smile starts to form on Riley's face.

"No more hugs," Jas states warningly," I'm all hugged out for the day." Riley didn't even hesitate, turning and dragging Guy into a fierce hug. He went rigid, arms outstretched to keep from touching her himself.

"Uh…. Took?"

"Just let her do it, she'll stop soon enough." Riley lets out a happy hum, giving one more squeeze before stepping away from him. He slowly lowers his arms back to his sides, though the look he shoots her suggests that she's not to be trusted. She understood, not a lot of people liked unexpected huggers. "So, Gilly's gonna take you out to the sight and I'll be here with little Arya."

"Gilly," she asks with raised brows. Jas points at Guy and Riley makes a noise of understanding. Her own nickname had been Nikita 2.0 for the first three years she knew Jas. Actually, Jas hadn't known her name for those three years and, to be fair, Riley had been killing a lot of people during that time frame since it was during the War of Bones. During that time, the Reapers and Rangers had banded together to bring down a rogue Reaper who'd gotten ahold of Grim's scythe and rose to power with several Reapers under his control. It had been dark and bloody, but they'd come out on top and Riley had been picked to be the ambassador for the Reapers while Jas had volunteered for the Rangers, finally accepting that she would never hold her son in her arms again.

"You're thinking about it again," Jas murmurs, freeing Riley from the tangled thoughts of the war. "Tobias can't hurt anyone else, Ri."

"I know," Riley says, voice smaller than it's been in a long time. "I can't help it sometimes." Jas nods, wrapping her arms around herself and hunching her shoulders as her own memories started to consume her. Before she could be dragged down, Guy wrapped his arms around her with one hand on the back of her head; Jas practically melted against him and Riley felt happiness warming her at the thought of the tough, sarcastic Ranger finally having someone to understand her.

"Alright, you two need to head out so you can be back before dark." Guy presses a kiss to her forehead before moving into the bedroom. "How's your brother?"

"He's a spoiled brat, but he's making good grades in the Academy." And she couldn't help her grin, the thought of her baby brother enough to make her forget the war and remember Han's bright smile. "He asked me just yesterday when he could see his weird buddy with the funny hair." Jas snorts, managing a smile of her own.

"Yeah, I miss that little geek, too."

"When all of this is over, you should come and stay with us for a week or so. We could play poker with Anubis again."

"Only if he promises not to sing Stick to the Status Quo again." There were a select few things that were permanently etched into her retinas, but the main one revolved around the jackal-headed god dancing around in a pair of boxers that had little ducks printed on them, singing along to the High School Musical soundtrack like a teenaged girl. Riley and Jas both shudder at that particular memory, Riley wondering why no one has invented bleach for the eyes yet.

Gisborne comes out of the room a moment later, wearing leather…. Well,  _everything_. The man was basically a walking leather commercial all on his own and Riley had to wonder why anyone would want to wear it when it chafed something awful. "Alright," she shrugs," looks like we're ready to get this road on the show."

"Good to know you're still a dork." But Jas was smiling and so was Riley, bumping the Ranger with her hip before turning and walking straight out the front door of the cabin. She was walking for a good two minutes before she realized she had no damn idea where she was going. A bit sheepish, she turns to look at Gisborne over her shoulder, the other man watching her in amused silence.

"Walk this way," he tells her, starting off to the right into the woods. Riley does as best as she can, trying to mimic the way he held himself and his long strides. He just arches a brow at her antics, rolling his eyes when she gives him a shit-eating grin. "Wonderful, I've got another smartass to deal with."

"I'm an acquired taste," she affirms proudly.

* * *

The bodies they stop in front of aren't too old, maybe a few hours or so judging from the smell and the way the skin had grown taunt over muscle and bones. It was nothing Riley hadn't seen before, kneeling in the grass beside them and careful to miss the pool of blood that had dried beneath them.

Licking her lips in a nervous habit, she reaches out one pale hand and rests it on the remains of the man’s forehead, her head snapping back and eyes glazing over as she went through his memories. It was a painful process, the speed of the memories going fast and making Riley strain to keep up with them, a pressure building behind her eyes until she’s forced to let go and breathe again.

“Are you alright,” Gisborne asks, reaching out a hand and letting it hover over her hunched back for a moment before taking it back. Riley was glad for it, needing a moment before she’s able to fight the migraine and straighten up again. Going through memories wasn’t something Reapers normally had to do, they would just collect them along with the soul and deliver it to the appropriate representative in the Afterworld.

“I’ll be fine,” Riley says after a second, taking off her glasses so she could rub at her eyes. “It just takes a lot out of me, is all.” Once her vision had cleared, she slides the glasses back in place and allows Gisborne to pull her to her feet.

“What happened here?”

“The man was hit from behind by something, then he was stabbed three times with a curved blade before the attacker turned him over and bashed his face in.” Riley draws in a shuddering breath, wishing her head would stop its throbbing so she could focus more. “Going off all the blood, I’d say the knife punctured an artery, which caused him to bleed out pretty quickly.”

“And his wife?”

“That’s not so pretty.” Riley glances down at the broken body, taking in the gore and bruised flesh. “She was the real target; the killer took their time with her and knew what they were doing. Look at the stab wounds, they’re too clean and spread out so that no arteries would be nicked.”

“He deliberately dragged out her death?”

“I don’t know what she did to piss the guy off, but it was enough to make him plan out every single detail.” Gisborne passes a hand over his face, looking ten years older as he turned away from the scene. Riley couldn’t blame him, it was even brutal by her standards and she’s older than Jesus. Literally.

“I need to bury them.”

“You can’t.” Gisborne gives her a disbelieving look, but Riley pays it no mind as she moves over to the camp. “Their souls are still inside them and they need to be reaped.”

“So do it.”

“I’m not assigned to them.” She bends down in front of a makeshift desk, going through all the drawers and then shuffling over to the bed to look under it.

“What difference does it make?! And what the hell are you doing over there?”

“My job,” she grunts, finally spotting a scrap of parchment to write on. “Each person is assigned a Reaper, that Reaper will deliver the soul and memories to specific people to be weighted and catalogued before the soul is taken to the appropriate place. If these guys believe in God, then they’ll either be delivered unto Heaven or Hell depending on their souls, if they don’t believe in anything, then they’ll be kept at peace in their coffins. If I take their souls, then I could screw it all up and make them miserable!”

She pulls a pen out of her beanie, writing down everything she’d observed before walking back to the bodies and curling the man’s hand around the parchment. It would let the other Reaper know what she had done so that they could adjust accordingly.

“If it makes you feel any better, the Reaper will bury them on sacred ground once he appears.”

“Do you know who it is,” Gisborne asks, voice gone quiet.

“Yeah, his name’s Ronald.” The man cocks up a brow, probably expecting some kind of praise or reassurance about the other Reaper. Truth is, Ronald’s a nice guy, but he should be stuck behind a desk at the Academy instead of in the field. “Uh, he’s not…. Terrible. You know what? We gotta get back to the cabin and tell Jas what we’ve found so far.”

“If you say so.”

The trip back to the cabin seems significantly longer than the trip to the camp, Riley unable to shove aside the memories of a knife coming down again and again against the victim’s back. It was bothersome, especially when one considered the country quacks that practiced medicine in the time period. No one, _no one_ , around here should be able to make such a clean cut to an artery. They were skilled and they were angrier than one person had a right to be.

The cabin is mostly quiet when they get back, the pair following the sound of Jas’s voice to the backyard where they found her. She was leaning against the back wall of the cabin, smiling down at the infant she had cuddled up closely against her chest. “ _The Sundering Seas between them lay, and yet at last they met once more_ ,” Jas was singing, oblivious to everything going on around her,” _and long ago they passed away in the forest singing sorrowless_.”

For that moment, just watching the way Jas must have been with her own son, Riley was able to put a nagging thought out of her mind. It would come back soon over the next day or so, repeating over and over again until she accepted it as truth. Someone had murdered that couple, someone with a sick mind and dark heart.

That someone wasn’t human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After finally escaping my family, I thought I’d sit down and finish this stupid chapter! Happy holidays to everyone celebrating and thank y’all for the great comments and feedback! The song Jas sings at the end is by J.R.R. Tolkien; I’m not sure what it’s called, but it starts on page 218 of book 1, it tells about the meeting of Beren and Lúthien (basically, I’ve been re-reading the books and I’m a big nerd for all the songs).


	81. Reading the Evidence

"So, how'd it happen," Riley asks as she and Jas sit in the bedroom. Books were spread out over the rumpled covers, the two women flipping through them while trading Arya back and forth from time to time.

"How'd what happen?"

"You and Gisborne, how'd it happen for you two? I mean, the last time I saw you, you were still swearing that you'd never settle down with someone just to spite your master." Jas grimaces, choosing to focus her stare on the baby in her arms and not on Riley. "What changed your mind?"

"He did." She finally looks up, a smile softening her features in such a way that Riley had never seen before. Jas was tough, she was hard marble that refused to change for anyone, but the woman in front of Riley was all gooey chocolate. "Gisborne and I couldn't stand each other for a little while, but then we became friends and that changed to something more. I don't know, I just didn't have to pretend around him."

"He must be a really great person."

"Well, he's an asshole, but he's my asshole." Riley can't hold back her snort, nodding along and remembering her own girlfriend. Cat was an asshole too, but Riley loved her for it all the same. "He's such a sweet man, Ri, he just isn't used to showing that side of him."

"So he's like one of those Russian nesting dolls?"

"Basically, yeah." Their laughter is cut short when the door to the bedroom is opened, a new man stepping inside. With his sandy blond hair and devilish grin, it's easy for Riley to know exactly who he is. "You got what I sent you after, Hood?"

"Goat milk and a bottle," the man confirms, holding it up for the women to see. "Is this the Reaper you summoned?"

"Yeah," Riley says," and she can talk, believe it or not." He sends her a smile that's meant to be charming, but Riley was more interested in the quirky Fae she's got waiting for her in Alaska. "Has Guy told you about everything or did he leave that to me?"

"No, he told me what you said." Hood lingers in the room after handing the bottle off, gaze not resting on one thing for long. It was like he was waiting for something, but Riley couldn't be sure what it'd be since tips haven't been invented yet. "You need somethin', Hood?"

"Actually, there's been another murder. A young woman alone in the forest, looked a bit like the last one, stabbed repeatedly in the back, and just left there for the animals. It's disgusting." Riley stands quickly and is out the door before Hood could comprehend it, the human stumbling after her. "Where are you going?"

"You're taking me to the sight and, so help me, I'll beat your ass if your men have messed with the body."

"You're bossier than Took is."

"Thanks, it's a gift." Hood snorts but doesn't say anything else, too wrapped up in the dark thoughts Riley knew all too well. Finding a dead body and knowing there wasn't anything you could do to help was never a feeling you got used to, not even after centuries of literally being Death in some cultures. "Say whatever's on your mind, it might be useful."

"The cuts are straight and they shouldn't be."

"Well, looks like you do have some brains inside that pretty head of yours. You're right, steady hand or not, no doctor in a thousand miles would have a tool that perfect in this time period. We're looking for something capable of crossing the streams without sounding the alarms."

"You're thinking it's some kind of supernatural creature? What, a faerie gone rogue?"

"Don't lower my newfound respect for you by blaming everything on faeries. No, this is something else entirely, I just can't pin it down." She and Jas had gone through all the creatures they could think of, drawing blanks and occasionally wanting to throw a hissy fit to relieve some frustration. Most murderous creatures were carefully locked away in a place that would make Guantanamo Bay look positively delightful. "How much longer?"

"It's just over that ridge." It felt like they'd been walking forever, but Riley knew it had only been ten minutes, their chatter and the frustration making her impatient for everything to be done with. It didn’t take her long to get up the ridge and then down again to the body, taking in the way she was sprawled out on her stomach. The lines, like Hood had said, were perfectly straight and in the same exact spots as the other woman’s; maybe five inches long, blood coating the back of her torn dress and corset.

“Poor girl,” Riley murmurs, kneeling beside the corpse resting her hand on the woman’s forehead. Just like before, the memories hit hard and fast, Riley’s eyes squeezed shut as she tried to process what had happened; no noise, a view of the trees and the blue sky above her, the sudden flare of pain as a club connects with the back of her head, the sound of metal hitting dirt, and then burning as her back is cut. “Grim’s bones!”

“What,” a man demands gruffly, catching Riley as she falls sideways,” what happened?”

“Give me a sec.” She was grateful for the arms holding her up, warm and almost bear-like, though she was less than grateful about the stench that seemed to cling to these men. _Man, the least they could do is find a river to jump in_. After a moment, she was able to stand by herself, finding a small group of men and one woman standing around her. “Alright, I need something to write with and on.” She holds out a hand impatiently, wiggling her fingers until a blond guy hands over a slip of cheap parchment and some kohl. She quickly writes out everything she’s done since arriving for the next Reaper, then folds the dead woman’s fingers around it.

“What did you see, Miss?” It was the man that had caught her and she turns to look at the guy who’d kept her from landing in the growing pool of blood. He’s huge, could probably give Dwayne Johnson a run for his money, covered in dark hair that matched his eyes, and a broad nose.

“Thanks for catching me, big guy. As for what I saw, it was just like before. Poor lady was whacked over the head, death was drawn out, and then absolutely nothing.” Riley shakes her head sadly, rubbing at her forehead as she tried to figure out exactly why her alarm bells were going off. _Wait… Something metal. Did the monster pick up his club?_ “Was there anything on the ground when y’all showed up? It’d look a little weird to you guys, probably something like a club except made of something else.”

“How’d you know,” the woman asks. She was pretty and short, her skin a dark brown that suggested it was tanned as well as natural, her accent lending help to that.

“Because I’m clever. Where’s it at?”

“Here, it looks as though the killer forgot it.” Riley moves to where the woman had pointed, finding a tee ball bat made of dark red metal, blood smudged and drying along the top of it. “What is that thing?”

“The thing that’ll help me nail this bastard.” Riley grabs it and turns to face the others, taking in their confused and worried expressions. They looked pitiful and scared, huddling together under the trees and looking to Riley like she held all the answers. “I’ll figure this out, guys, I promise.” _Even if I have to get my hands dirty while doing it_. She curls the fingers of her free hand around her necklace, feeling her emotions start to even out.

“How can you be sure?”

“As my boss reminds me every chance he gets, I’m a stubborn little shit.”

The walk back to the cabin is silent other than the sound of leaves crunching under their feet, Hood and Riley both thinking of the newest murder. Hood was attempting to wrap his mind around who could do something like this while Riley was trying to figure out what the cuts were about. They were specific while the victims hadn’t been, exactly five inches, exactly six wounds, curved blade, a freaking _bat_ to stun the victims and keep them from fighting back.

“I’ll tell Jas and Guy what I found out,” Riley says when they reach the front door. “The way I figure it, they like you about as well as you like them.”

“Yeah, we have a…. Complicated history,” Hood agrees with a sheepish smile. “Thank you for your help, Miss Liu.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” She hugs him before he could get away, the motion more instinct by now than anything else since she had two kids back in Alaska that she hugs every time they leave. That’s when she noticed it, the distinct lack of nasty smells that she’d been assaulted by earlier. “Hold up, why don’t you stink?”

“Because I bathe.” He looked offended when she leans in to sniff him again, trying to find any scrap of BO. Hood was fairly clean, obviously supplied with soap from that Lady love of his that Jas had mention. So what had she smelled back in those woods? It wasn’t the normal scent of fir trees and it obviously hadn’t been the people, more like brimstone or…. _Oh, Grim’s bones, I’m a complete and utter moron_.

“I know what the killer is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long delay, I've been distracted by a couple of my other stories! If y'all want to read more about Riley, she's the main character in my Penny Dreadful story on here.


	82. And a Scythe and a Sandglass the Skeleton Bore

"One of my companions whispered to another the line from Bϋrger," Jas read out loud, gaze flicking between the book in her hands and the man and infant sitting across from her,"  _Denn die Todten schnell_." She pauses a moment, brows knitting together over her dark eyes as those words really sank in. " _Denn die Todten schnell_ ," she repeats, quieter than before.

"What does that mean," Gisborne asks. He was sitting in the armchair near the fire, gently patting Arya's bottom to keep her from crying.

"It's German, meaning 'for the dead travel fast'. I read it so many times in this book, usually associated in with vampires, but it makes sense." The violent murders of mostly women, the precise cuts, they all combined into a ritual Jas had learned about in school, but never really cared about. It was old school, nothing practiced that the Reapers and Rangers knew about. "Holy shit, I know what the killer is."

"I know what the killer is," Riley shouts as she and Hood race inside. The Reaper's eyes were wider than usual and she held a bloody bat in one of her hands, looking like Sherlock must whenever he solved a difficult case.

"A necromancer," the women say in unison.

"A what," the men ask together.

"A necromancer," Riley continues," they're supposed to be extinct, but it makes so much sense!" Gisborne quickly takes Arya into the bedroom so that the shouting doesn't bother her, depositing her on the bed and walking back into the living room where everyone else was talking excitedly. "They gather souls from living people after completing a ritual with the hope of reanimating the dead."

"Yeah," Jas nods," and this guy makes Mozenrath look like a pretty chill dude. This guy must've jumped into one of the fractured time streams, ended up here, and decided to set up shop."

"And I know how to find him." Riley raises the bat proudly for everyone to see, the blood on the top of it shining dully in the firelight. "Who wants to catch Psycho McCrazy Pants?"

"I'll get the marker for the runes." It didn't take Jas long to locate the bright purple Sharpie she'd brought with her, snatching it up and sprinting back into the main room of the cabin. "Give it." Riley holds the bat out, allowing Jas to trace her Ranger's mark near the base and a few of the other, stronger ones that she knew. Riley takes over after that, her kind having more tracking runes than anyone else.

"What do you think the elders will say when we bag a necromancer?"

"Who knows? I'm just hoping this'll get their fat heads out of their asses." The elders were some of the most powerful Reapers of them all, lording over everyone to ensure rules were followed and nothing went astray. They became even more unbearable after the War of Bones, though Grim was the real authority in the serious matters.

"Only the zombie apocalypse will cause that." Once she'd finished, the runes began to glow faintly, the bat rising out of Riley's hand and floating over to the front door. "Let's hit the road, y'all."

"Wait, who's staying with the baby?"

"Hold on," Hood says, pushing the bat back so he can poke his head outside. "Will, come here!" The shaggy-haired member of Team Hood comes inside a moment later, looking at the floating bat like it would bite him. "You need to stay with Arya while we track down the murderer."

"Why me," he asks, side-stepping the bat so he could stand nearer to the others.

"Because, out of everyone in our group, you're the only one I trust not to drop the poor kid. She's in the bedroom, there's milk if she gets hungry, try to stay sane until we get back."

"But—"

"Think of it this way, Will," Jas says in a sharp tone," you can either stay here with the baby or I can take this marker and shove it where the sun don't shine." She leans in close when he doesn't get the meaning, taking advantage of her height to whisper in his ear. "It's your ass."

"Right, you all have fun storming the castle or whatever evil people call home."

"There's a good boy." She pats him on the shoulder and leads the way outside, letting the bat out as she went. The others scrambled after her, Gisborne and Riley taking up spots on either side of her. Gisborne's mouth was fixed into a grim line, shoulders tense as they followed the bat into the woods. "You okay, Gilbert?"

"I'm fine," he says, staying quiet to avoid anyone overhearing him. "I mean, I'm not, but I will be as soon as we get this  _thing_." Jas reaches out to grasp his hand, giving it a squeeze to let him know she was on his side. Humans dying wasn't something that got her emotional, but knowing a little girl would never know her parents had Jas pissed off. Parents are important for kids, they're supposed to be immortal and unchanging, always there when the kid needs someone to lean on. Arya would probably never have that if she was sent to an abbey. "How are you feeling about all of this?"

"Let's just say that I'm ready to rip this guy's head off with my bare hands and leave it at that."

"You look so beautiful when you're bloodthirsty."

"Aw, that's so sweet. You're definitely getting laid tonight." He grins at that, though it was edged with the fierce determination of a fighter. Gisborne looked ready to take on the world, his sword strapped to his belt, leather clothed fitted to his lean frame perfectly. He was amazing, the first human to ever make her let all of her defenses fall away into the void.

"Could you two save the mushy stuff for later," Riley asks dryly. "Because I feel a little sick over here." Jas gives her friend a smile, looping their arms together. "For you to be a badass, you sure love to cuddle."

"No, she doesn't," Gisborne corrects," I have to wrap my arms around her and pin her arms to her sides in order to cuddle while she's still awake."

"He's not lying," Jas admits," he's like some kind of leather-clad pretzel in the mornings."

They all fall quiet the further into the woods they went, the rest of Hood's posse falling in step with them. Jas’s senses seemed to go into overdrive the more she walked, able to hear the animals burrowing close by and the sound of dirt shifting under the soft leather of boots. Those were what she’d expected to hear this late at night, but it was strange not to have the wind howling through the trees or Vaisey’s tantrum’s echoing.

The bat stops where two paths intersect, a crossroads that no one would find unless they ventured into the darkest part of Sherwood Forest, the trees overhead blocking out all moonlight. It was the perfect place to perform necromancy, but why would the bat stop if its master wasn’t here as well? Jas didn’t know much about these rituals, but she’s pretty damn certain the guy has to be present in order to perform them.

“Ri,” Jas says after a moment,” I thought necromancers couldn’t so much as glance at a woman in the nine days leading up to their ritual.”

“Maybe this man is changing things up to see what happens,” Djaq suggests with a shrug. She was human and most of them didn’t even know for certain that the supernatural realms exist, but she should know better by now than to make assumptions.

“No,” Gisborne states,” after all the care they’ve gone through, they wouldn’t just allow themselves to mess up like this. What if they’re not a necromancer after all, what if they’re something else?” Jas tenses as a smell wafts over to them, stinking of rot and…. Flowers? That couldn’t be right, Riley’s scent was of magnolias, but this was more akin to a snake lily.

“Oh, fuck,” Riley breathes, grasping the charm on her necklace tightly. “Gisborne’s half-right, Jas.” It took a moment for Jas to understand, but then she’s got her Samhain Blade unsheathed and has pushed Gisborne behind her.

“Is it an angel?”

“Not quite, but close enough for the blade to do some damage.” A slow clapping started up on their left, the group turning as one to face the threat. The man that stepped out of the shadows was taller than even Lucifer, his white hair falling down his back limply, and his eyes pitch black. It was a half-breed, that made clear by the sigil burned right into the side of his thin neck, black even after centuries of baring it.

“I was right,” the half-breed states with a manic smile. He taps his left temple with his finger, giggling as he came to a stop ten feet away, carefully out of range of Riley’s scythe. “I was _right_! Rangers and Reapers working together to solve the murders of innocent women. Oh, my father would be so proud of me right now.”

“Your father wouldn’t feel anything for you except disgust.” He tilts his head to the side, pursing his lips at Riley’s words. He reminded Jas of a scarecrow, too thin and gaunt to be of any real use, too colorless to be healthy; his brand a bold X with an arrow cutting through the center. “You were never supposed to be made, Caius.”

“Yet here I am.”

“Because Tobias stole an angel’s Grace and mixed it with his blood! You were an experiment!”

“No—”

“She’s right,” Jas yells back at him, realizing Riley’s plan. The angrier he is, the harder it will be for Caius to control himself. Half-breeds were notorious for their explosive tempers, but they couldn’t kill anything that wasn’t human. “He used you to keep his war going, but it backfired on him in the end. No one cares about you, Caius, especially not Tobias Gideon.”

“You’re just jealous that your father isn’t famous like mine. _My_ father stole Grim’s scythe and created an army of followers that would make God jealous!”

“And do you know what happened to him?”

“Jas and I knocked him out,” Riley informs him,” and then we drug him to the council chamber where he faced the full force of Grim’s wrath. Last I heard, he was a cowering mess in the lower cells, chained to a wall and denied all food and water. Tobias is just a scary story we tell to the young ones over a campfire.”

“Tobias is _nothing_ and you are, too.”

“Like father, like son.” Caius lets out a roar, charging forward only to have Jas fling him back against a tree. “Don’t fuck with professionals, Caius.”

“Yeah, you’re not gonna win.” Instead of looking like a kicked puppy like Jas had expected, Caius tilts his head back and begins to laugh, high and reedy. “Uh, is he slightly more unhinged than we thought he was?”

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Did you really think I did this by myself,” he asks, breathing hard as he lowers his head to look at them through his lashes. “I may not be very smart, but I’m not stupid either.” There was a whistling sound and then Riley was lurching forward with a grunt, staring down in shock at the knife tip protruding from her shoulder. “About time you showed up, Vita.” Jas stands protectively in front of Riley as a woman appears from behind them, the woman’s hair an unnatural red and moving as though being blown around by a breeze.

“I think we found our necromancer,” Much says, clutching at his sword’s hilt tightly. It was drawn, the blade looking dull without any light to shine on it.

“You have indeed,” the woman answers, her voice soft. She was close to Jas’s height, the flowing, sleeveless dress she wore exposing her muscular arms. “Let the runt go.” Jas just shakes her head, ready for the fight that was coming. “I’m asking nicely, Ranger.”

“Pardon me,” Jas sneers,” but you kind of stabbed my best friend and I’m a little pissy about it.” Vita smiles, a faint upturning of her lips, and Jas can see how she’d convinced Caius to work with her despite his distrust of all living things. She was beautiful with her delicate features, like a princess from a fairytale that was waiting for a ball to start. The strangest part about her was the fact that her eyes were pale blue, hinting at blindness that allowed her to murder without worrying about seeing women during the nine days before the ritual.

“Caius told me about the two of you, how you grew close during the war.” She takes a step closer, feet bare and blackened by ash. “Both of you filled with rage, broken from years of trauma….”

“Take another step and I’m takin’ one of your toes, lady.”

“Wouldn’t you rather join me?” She holds out a hand, palm up, and there’s a tugging in Jas’s chest that makes her long to give in. It was like a voice in her head, unfamiliar but needed, whispering about good things, a good life. It’s not until she’s tackled to the ground that she realized she’d been walking towards Vita, Gisborne’s weight pinning her down.

“Get out of my wife’s head,” he snarls, teeth bared. The longing remained, Jas reaching out desperately for Vita’s hand even as Gisborne continued to sit on her chest.

“Come with me, girls, I’ll protect you.”

“Alan, grab the Reaper!” There was a sound of a struggle nearby, a brief yelp when Alan is kneed in the side, but he manages to keep Riley from standing. “Why are you doing this?”

“For the souls, Guy of Gisborne.” Her palm begins to glow faintly, then brighter as an orb forms in her grasp. What Jas saw made her gasp, stomach churning uncomfortably. It was a little boy inside the orb, running around a garden and giggling, so tiny and so beautiful. He aged slowly, dark curls wild and a beautiful smile lighting up his face. He was perfect, exactly how Jas had imagined her son would look if he’d had the chance to grow. “Women, _mothers_ , have the strongest souls and I need them to gain back my sight. Two more souls and the ritual can be completed.”

“I’ll die before I allow you to harm Took.”

“That can be arranged. Caius, dear, murder the humans.” Jas’s eyes never left the necromancer’s, her mind barely registering the high scream of Caius as he moved in for the attack. She could only focus on the orb and the vision of her son inside of it, a man now and fighting alongside a young man of Chinese decent with the same square-shaped glasses that Riley wore. That would be Han, the little brother that Riley’s raising now that her parents have retired to the Afterworld. “Come with me, Jasmine,” Vita whispers enticingly,” and I’ll summon your child’s spirit.”

“Garen,” she whispers hoarsely, struggling underneath her husband,” I want my Garen!” The weight is lifted off her chest and she flips onto her stomach, crawling towards Vita as well as she could. Just a few more feet and she could see her baby again, the only person that mattered to her. _I’m coming, Garen, Mommy’s coming_.

It was a strangled scream that stopped her dead in her tracks, magic-addled brain making it hard for her to realize what was happening behind her. Vita wasn’t far and she could see her son’s smiling face clearly, she wanted more than anything to reach out and pull him into her arms. But the noises were coming back, the screams registering in her mind, and suddenly her only thought was to protect the love of her life.

With a great amount of willpower, Jas stands and turns her back to Vita so that she can see everything going on again. It was chaos, Caius using his shaky attempts at magic on Hood’s group while Riley was struggling to break away from Alan. It’s Gisborne that really captures her attention, lying limply on the ground with blood coating the side of his face.

“No,” she screams, sprinting over to him and kneeling at his side. “Wake up!” She delivers a sharp slap to his face, letting out a breath of relief when his pale eyes flicker open. “You don’t get to die before I do, Guy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he manages to return. There’s another scream and then she’s sprawled out on the ground, Caius on top of her with his hands around her throat. “God above, Hood, would you just shoot the man already?”

“I’m working on it,” Hood shoots back, words slurred due to his busted lip. He fitted an arrow to his bow as he spoke, pulling it back and releasing it gracefully. It flew through the air, the shaft burying itself between Caius’s shoulder blades like a knife through butter. “How do we kill a necromancer?” Unable to talk as she fights to get her breath back and push the corpse off of her, Jas gestures wildly at the discarded Samhain Blade.

“I’ve got it.” Gisborne gets unsteadily to his feet, swaying as blood continued to flow from a deep cut near his hairline. Unstable or not, Gisborne doesn’t falter as he grips the blade and aims it at Vita’s heart, throwing it with all his might and watching on in slight surprise when it hits its mark. The necromancer lets out a deafening shriek, clutching at the dagger even as smoke began to swirl around her feet. It was like something out of a horror movie, Vita’s body changing from flesh to ash and crumbling into a pile.

“My God, it actually worked.” A groan from Riley had Jas turning onto her side to gaze at her friend. Her hair had been yanked out of the ponytail holder at some point and fell in tangles down her back, bruises beginning to form along her jaw and her wrists, but she looked no worse than anyone else. She sits up slowly, picking up her cracked glasses in confusion.

“Riley?”

“I need a drink,” she mutters, standing up with a grimace. Alan stands as well, helping her pull the dagger out of her shoulder so that it can start to heal.

“I think we all do at this point.” Gisborne helps Jas to stand up, the couple supporting each other as they tried to take stock of their injuries. Jas’s were mild compared to everyone else’s, just a sore throat and sore back while the others looked as though they went ten rounds with Grim and came out on the losing end.

“Necromancers fucking suck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book that Jas is reading is Dracula, and the quote “Denn die Todten schnell” is from a German poem called Lenore by Gottfried August Bürger. The title of this chap comes from the poem, too.


	83. Farewell Parties

It was the next evening that they all got together to celebrate the victory, deciding on the best liquor Took could summon and S’mores before they had to face real life again. Hood and Will would take little Arya to her grandmother’s village a few miles away in the morning, Riley would be going back to Alaska and her family, and Took and Gisborne would enjoy the rest of their honeymoon.

As it is, they were all in the backyard, drinking and laughing near a bonfire that Little John had helped to make. They had thick logs on either side of the flames for them to sit on, but that’s not what had everyone’s attention. Took and Riley were dancing around the fire, signing loudly together.

“ _Hey, ho, to the bottle I go_ ,” they sing, dancing around like little girls,” _to heal my heart and drown my woe! Rain may fall and wind may blow, but there still be many miles to go! Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain and the stream that falls from hill to plain! Better than rain or rippling brook_ —”

“ _Is a mug of beer inside this Took,”_ Took practically yells, raising the bottle of rum she held proudly. She collapses on the log next to her husband, cheeks pink and heart racing. It was nice to be having fun after the last few days spent tracking lunatics, her smile constantly on display.

“Having fun,” Gisborne asks with an amused smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her from falling backwards.

“So much fun.” Her words were slurring together, but Gisborne could understand her fairly well. Took giggles, scooting closer so that she was pressed tightly against his side, that honey-sweet scent of hers filling his nostrils. He loved that smell, burying his nose in her wild curls and breathing it in.

“I’m glad, love.” He could stay like that forever, watching as the warm glow of the fire reflects in her eyes. He still found himself loving those dark eyes of hers, the small chips of amber keeping them from blending in with her pupils.

“ _Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night_ ,” Riley begins to sing, swaying along to a rhythm that only she could hear,” _and wouldn’t you love to love her? Takes through the sky like a bird in flight and who will be her lover? All your life you’ve never seen a woman taken by the wind. Would you stay if she promised you Heaven? Will you ever win?_ ”

“ _She’s like a cat in the dark_ ,” Took joins in, but doesn’t leave Gisborne’s side,” _and then she is the darkness. She rules her life like a fine skylark and when the sky is starless. All your life you’ve never seen a woman taken by the wind. Would you stay if she promised you Heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win?_ ”

“ _Rhiannon, Rhiannon, Rhiannon, Rhiannon…._ ” Riley trips and falls against Alan with a laugh, letting him push her back upright. “Oh boy, the things I’d let you get away with if I wasn’t gay.”

“What does you being happy have anything to do with that,” Alan asks, brows raised as he looks down at the Reaper. “If anything, that should make you even more willing.”

“Yeah, where I come from, _gay_ means something completely different. I got a girlfriend that could kick your ass while blindfolded. Grim’s bones, she’s gorgeous.” She pulls her cellphone out and quickly finds what she’s looking for, stumbling over and squatting across from Gisborne so he and Took could see the picture. It was two young women and a disgruntled looking man, Riley being the only familiar one of the three. “That’s Cat and the big guy in the background is Frankenstein’s monster. He’s pretty cool for being an unholy creation and poetry snob.”

“Do I even want to know,” Gisborne asks.

“Eh, it’s a long story that I’m too drunk to tell. If I ever write a book about it, you’ll be the first dude I send it to. Well, you and Grim, he’s still curious to know why I hit Dracula in the face with a frying pan filled with tater tots.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Riley. In the meantime, I’m taking my wife back inside to get some sleep.”

“I think she beat you to that last bit.” Riley was right, Took was already sound asleep with her mouth hanging open unattractively. He loved her for it, it made her seem more down to earth since she sleeps just as weirdly as humans do.

“Goodnight, Riley.” The Reaper gives him a toothy grin and skips off, dragging Little John closer to the fire to dance with her. The man might have had two left feet, but Riley wasn’t afraid to lead him in the strange dance. “I’m surrounded by crazy women.” Carefully to avoid jolting her too much, Gisborne stands and picks his wife up, holding her against his chest as he maneuvers around drunk outlaws.

It was surprisingly nice to be surrounded by happy people, though that was mainly because he wasn’t stressing about the days to come. He and Took would be spending another week and a half out here, avoiding any and all social activities that included other people. He’d say they’ve earned it by now and he was looking forward to sleeping in past five in the morning.

“Watch out for Reptar,” Took mumbles in her sleep,” he’s gonna step on Phil.”

“Don’t worry,” Gisborne assures her,” I won’t let anyone step on Phil.” He had no idea who the people in her dream was, but the pleased smile he got in return was enough. _Whoever this Reptar person is, they must be enormous_. He lays her down on the bed, removing her bra and shoes before curling up next to her.

“G’night, sexy.” He snorts a little, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Since she was passed smooth out, he could cuddle without worrying about her elbowing him in the face. “I love you to the moon and back, y’know.”

“Not nearly as much as I love you, Took.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is from the first Lord of the Rings movie and is the sole reason why I made Jas’s last name Took. The other song is Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac. As for the story about Dracula’s face meeting a frying pan, it’s all explained in my Penny Dreadful fic ‘My Soul to Take’.


	84. Unconscious Messengers

Twenty Questions probably wasn't the way most adults passed the time as they waited for some noble or another to arrive, but it was definitely a good way to find out more about the people you're with. Jas and Gisborne had been playing it for a few minutes, asking whatever they could think of that wouldn't drag up bad memories. "So, what'd you want to be when you grew up," Gisborne asks after a moment in thought. Jas shrugs, biting her lip as she ran through everything she'd wanted to be. There were a lot, but there was only one that she became slightly obsessed with.

"One of the Hex Girls," she answers with a shy grin. "They were these characters in some Scooby-Doo cartoons, completely badass, and they didn't care what anyone thought of them." She shrugs a little, feeling her cheeks heat up in a blush. She'd never told anyone that before aside from her older brother, but now it was out there and Gisborne wasn't laughing at her or calling her an idiot.

"Sounds like you achieved that goal, Took."

"Nah, not quite. I'm too chicken to go to a dentist to have custom-built fangs made." His brows twitched, not knowing what a dentist was, but he doesn't ask about it quite yet. "Alright, my turn." She turns slightly on the stone banister to get a better look at him, the skirt of her dress spread out around her. It was dark red and in the style of a fifties Swing dress, with a halter top and pleated skirt that stopped around her ankles. "What's been your favorite moment in your entire life?"

"Holding you in my arms the night we were married." He hadn't even stopped to think, the answer springing out past his lips. "We had Arya snuggled between us and I couldn't help but to hope that we would have a baby of our own one day. I understand completely if you don't want that," he adds hurriedly, holding up a hand.

"No, I-I'd like to have a baby with you one day. To tell you the truth, I actually miss the sleepless nights spent pacing the house with a baby in my arms." She can't hold back a soft smile, remembering the late-night phone calls she'd exchanged with Flynn and her sister-in-law when they were all awake with the little ones. Having Arya, if only for a few days, had lessened that ache in her chest and seeing Gisborne smiling down at the baby had made her long for one of her own. Not right this moment, of course, but maybe when her mission was over and she could take Gisborne with her to the palace and their master.

"What would you be doing right this moment if you hadn't come to Nottingham?"

"Probably watching re-runs of Dirk Gently." He snorts, leaning back against one of the wooden support beams with his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't know, dude, things are really boring when you live in the country; it's mostly racist old guys, kids thinking they're gangsters with their pants sagging, and cows."

"Then it's a good thing you did come here."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm-hm, what with our racist old men, hooligans with ill-fitting clothes, and cows." Jas throws her head back and laughs at that, one hand going to her stomach. "I like to think I make up for all of that, though."

"Yeah, your sunny disposition is enough to brighten up everyone's day, Gilbert." He gives a mocking smile in return, but she can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. It was the sound of horses' hooves and carriage wheels that drew them out of their game, the cause appearing in the courtyard a minute later. "Oh goody, the nobility has arrived."

"I'll go and tell Vaisey, you stay here."

"Be careful, he's in a good mood and that always means trouble for us." Gisborne groans, but turns and slides off the banister to the stone floor three feet below, striding inside with the posture of a soldier heading into battle. Vaisey's moods were unpredictable at best and a happy Sheriff usually meant a lot of work for Jas and Gisborne. Jas faces the courtyard, allowing herself to drop the seven feet to the stone below, landing lightly on her feet.

"Took an alternate route," one of the soldiers says," just like Sir Guy asked."

"Good lad." She pats his cheek, not liking how smooth it is. He really is still a boy, maybe about fourteen or so. "Aren't you a little young to be carrying a spear?"

"It's good money, Miss Took, and it means my little sister gets to eat every day." He shrugs with a smile, not seeing anything wrong with child soldiers. "You alright?"

"I have to be." She turns when she hears the castle doors opening, Vaisey and Gisborne descending the steps. After spending a year around those two, it was pure instinct when she matches their posture and takes a step to the left so that she would be on Vaisey's other side once he reached her.

"Henry Louis," Vaisey greets, arms outstretched in welcome as the door to the enormous carriage is thrown open," welcome to my—" Vaisey trails off as the man flops sideways onto the floor of the carriage, limp and groaning. "Oh, bother. Gisborne, fetch my physician." Gisborne nods and heads off at a brisk pace, leaving Vaisey and Jas to stare down at the sick man.

"This is why you don't eat gas station sushi."

"Shut your mouth and get him to the rooms that have been prepared for him." Jas raises her brows and puts her hands on her hips, Vaisey rolling his eyes more dramatically than Jas had thought possible. "You use your magical powers to lift the dead weight and follow me, alright? Can you follow instructions just this once?"

"Have you never met me?"

"One of these days, your master and I are having a long conversation about your manners." Jas smiles, falling back on her telekinesis to pick Henry up off the floor. "Alright, this way, Took." She follows after him, Henry floating in the space between them so she can ensure he doesn't whack his head on walls as they pass by. His room turns out to be on the second floor right down the hall from Jas's, furnished much the same way. "Lay him down on the fainting couch."

"You got it, Boss." She sets the man down gently and moves into the bedroom to grab one of the blankets, covering Henry with it when she gets back into the living room. "So, what went on here while Gisborne and I were away?"

"Not much, I had someone poison an entire section of Nottingham and then got poisoned myself." He shrugs, staring down at the sick human with barely concealed disdain. "A couple of people died, none were children, and Hood ruined all of my plans."

"So it was a fairly normal week, then."

"Could've been a lot worse." Gisborne and Blight enter the room a few minutes later, the latter studiously ignoring Jas as he set about examining the patient. "You two stay with Blight and I'll be back in ten minutes." Vaisey makes it out in the hallway before he turns to shoot Blight a dark look. "Make some progress this time around or I'll have your head."

"Ye-yes, My Lord," Blight says, lowering his head wisely. Jas leans against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, watching on boredly. This man had less medical experience than Frank Burns, which Jas had thought impossible a year ago. "My bag, please, Sir Guy." Gisborne hands the satchel over with a faint sneer curling his lip, Blight pulling out a jar of leaches.

"Are you kidding," Jas laughs," fucking  _leaches?_  Lucifer's love, I'm living in the dark ages."

"Do you have a better idea," Gisborne asks curiously. "They do things differently in your realm, don't they?"

"A whole lot differently, but there's nothing I can use in this realm that even compares to it. Just do me a favor and don't let the quack cut Henry."

"How would your physician solve this?"

"Thorough examination first, then adjusting everything to fit the symptoms." She shrugs, not entirely sure considering she had no use for human doctors. Rangers didn't get sick and they had their own surgeons when they had some trouble healing wounds, so she mainly fell back on the doctor shows she'd watched over the years. "I don't really know, I've never been sick before."

"Well, aren't you a lucky duck? I wish I could say the same." Jas offers up a smile and a shrug, only having a vague understanding of human illnesses. Rangers had a couple that came from sharing Lucifer's blood, but no one had ever died from them. "Since it looks like we might be spending the night in the castle, what do you want to do tonight?"

"Mm, we could always read."

"You mean you'll actually finish the first  _Lord of the Rings_  book with me? Miracles never cease." He was giving her that half-smile he's so famous for, but she could see the way his gaze softened when he looked at her and she couldn't help but blush. No one has ever looked at her the way Gisborne did, he actually looked proud to call her his wife, like it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The feeling was mutual, the last time Jas had felt so absolutely devoted to a person was when her son was still alive. "Which room do you want to use?"

"Yours, it's more homey." Jas's rooms in the castle were almost Spartan, having only the base essentials while the rest of her stuff had been moved to Locksley Manor. Gisborne's, on the other hand, were filled with soft rugs, books, and all the things that reminded her of the sullen, sarcastic asshole that she married. "What part were we on anyway?" It had been a while since they actually had time to sit down and read, their honeymoon notwithstanding considering they mainly just caught up on beauty sleep or played chess.

"Uh… I think it was the bit when that golden-haired Elf showed up."

"Glorfindel," Jas announces with a smile," he's one of my favorites even if we don't get to see him much." Jas and Gisborne both look up when the door to the room swings open to permit Vaisey, neither of them realizing ten minutes had come and gone while they were talking.

"I thought I said to make him better," Vaisey says, brows furrowed as he looks down at the unconscious nobleman," not  _worse_."

"He's just calmer," Blight assures confidently. Jas raises a brow, noting the lack of color in Henry's cheeks and his shallow breathing.

"Then you're calming him to death." For emphasis, Vaisey prods at Henry's cheek and the man's head flops to the side limply. "What the hell were you two doing while Blight was screwing up?"

"Talking about how badly Blight was screwing up mainly," Jas answers. "The man's a natural when it comes to killing people instead of fixing them." She'd warned Vaisey about this before, back when she'd been stabbed by Hood and the quack had attempted to fix her. It was a miracle in itself that Vaisey was still alive.

"Gisborne, go find me an idiot that actually knows what he's doing." Blight's watery eyes go wide and he scrambles to get in front of the Sheriff, blocking the way to the door.

"But, Sire," he implores," I am a man of science! I actually know what I'm doing!"

"The only thing you know how to do is give me a headache," Vaisey hisses back, carefully controlling his temper. "I want this man to talk and the only way I'll get that is by having a physician with some sense take a look at him!"

“I could always give him some of my blood,” Jas suggests, moving to stand near the couch. “It’s worked before to heal humans.” Vaisey looks at her over his shoulder, a considering expression making him look a little less tense. His lips pursed for a moment, strolling back over to everyone.

“Not too much, Took. I don’t want him waking up with a tail and pitchfork.”

“Don’t worry, Sherriff, my master doesn’t give pitchforks to just anyone.” Jas pulls Gisborne’s dagger out of the sheath at his hip, pricking her finger. She waits until a drop of silver welled to the surface, then tilts Henry’s head back with her finger poised over the human’s mouth. Only two drops were spared before the cut healed, the effect instantaneous as Henry’s body goes rigid, convulsing a moment before he goes limp on the couch again. “Good news is that my blood didn’t do any harm.”

“And what’s the bad news?”

“It didn’t do any help either.”


	85. Bickering old Wise Women

Holding a knife against Blight's throat would be fun under normal circumstances, but doing it as part of intimidation duty was just plain boring. Sure, Jas could find some amusement in the way the incompetent human was desperately slapping Henry's face, but it was mostly enduring the stench of sweat as it poured off him in gallons. "Why couldn't I go with Gisborne," she asks almost ten minutes in.

"Because I thought this would be fun," Vaisey replies, slouched in his high-backed chair. "Turns out I was wrong." Jas looks back to the physician, tracing the tip of her dagger around Blight's pulse point. It would be so easy for her to nick the skin, to do it in just the right spot and watch the blood squirt out like ketchup, but it would also prove to be as entertaining as the man the blood belonged to.

"Shut up, woman," came the familiar bellow out in the hallway. Jas and Vaisey both turn their gazes to the door right as Gisborne pushed it open, a handful of guards dragging in a middle-aged woman. She was pretty for the most part, plump and tan with a bit of cloth tied around her head.

"Slimy snothead," she spits at Gisborne, looking every bit like an angered tigress.

"Matilda," Blight bites out.

"Wonderful, as if having Sir Shit-for-brains snatching me up wasn't bad enough, now I have to deal with the only man capable of killing his patients in two minutes."

"Oh," Jas states, pointing at Matilda while glancing at her husband," I like her. Can we just keep her around and listen to her hurl insults at the quack?"

"I'm not a pet, Devil's whore!"

"Devil's  _niece_ , actually." Jas gives the woman a cheerful smile, shrugging one shoulder. She looks to Gisborne next, moving to stand beside him so she could whisper in his ear. "He also says to tell you that he looks forward to meeting the insanely stubborn asshole that convinced me marriage was a good idea."

"Should I be offended, scared, or pleased," he murmurs back.

"Probably a little bit of everything." Gisborne nods, not looking particularly worried yet. For the most part, Lucifer would give him a once-over, speak the Rites, and ignore him until Jas gets pregnant. He really wasn't all that concerned with marriages as long as his Rangers didn't lose their edge or forget their place.

"Gisborne," Vaisey says," when I said to bring me a wise woman, I didn't mean bring me a smartass that your wife would like."

"Everyone in the village swears by her," Gisborne informs him. "They all say she's the best at what she does and they're too scared to lie to me at this point."

"Is there a reason why I'm here, Baldy," Matilda interrupts. Jas couldn't hold back a snort, quickly bringing a hand up to cover her mouth and muffle the laughter that followed. This woman was proving to be one of the most entertaining humans Jas has ever met. Vaisey gives Matilda a sarcastic laugh, looking ready to throw her out the window as he stood up and came to stand a few feet away from her.

"Do you know who I am," he asks her, a dangerous light in his eyes.

"You're the Sheriff that can barely keep thieves from stealing money right out from under your nose."

"I'm also the man with a job for you."

"I assure you, my lord, you can take whatever the job is and shove it right up your ass. That is, if your head isn't blocking the way." A surprised laugh leaves Blight this time and everyone turns to look at him, the other man snapping his mouth closed with an audible  _click_  of his teeth.

"Let me put this another way," Vaisey states after a moment of silence spent glaring at Blight," you can cure this man or I will have you, everyone you love, and everyone you've ever had a fondness for killed horribly. If you don't believe me, just take a look at the Ranger. She's been torturing people longer than you've been practicing medicine."

"Hey," Jas snaps," I ain't that old yet."

"I won't stay here," Matilda says, beginning to panic," my daughter's expecting a baby anytime now."

"Chill, I'll take a wagon and pick her up."

"No, I don't want you anywhere near my child!"

"And I don't exactly want to be in the same room as the quack that tried to fuck up a simple stab wound either, but we don't always get what we want. Besides, ask anyone here and they'll tell you the same thing, I don't hurt kids."

"This is completely ridiculous," Blight shouts, gaining back a smidge of his bravery. "I'll leave if she lays so much as a finger on my patient!" Matilda arches her brows at that, stubbornly raising one finger and moving to stand beside the couch that Henry was passed out on.

"Do I have your word my daughter will be kept safe?"

"I won't even let Took go near her," Vaisey assures, though it was in his  _you're disgusting, don't talk to me_  tone. Matilda gives Blight a smug little smile, resting her finger on Henry's bare chest. Blight, for his part, attempts to be dramatic as he throws one of his rags down and marches out of the room with his head thrown back. Honestly, it just made him look like the asshole from Men in Tights. "Send someone for me the moment he begins to talk." Matilda nods, watching as everyone leaves the room and the guards shut the door behind them.

"Flynn was able to send me some more coffee grounds this morning," Jas says as she and Gisborne start down the hall, branching away from the Sheriff.

"Wonderful," Gisborne returns," I've had an awful headache all morning and some coffee would be nice." His entwines their fingers as they walk, hands swinging a little between them. Gisborne liked being able to touch her even if it was only in smalls ways like holding hands, he seemed afraid that she would disappear if he didn't.

"Just wait until you come to my realm. We have places that specialize in making different types of coffee and they usually get your order right."

"What's your realm like?"

"It's busy, everything moves a little too fast some days." Jas shrugs a shoulder and offers a smile. "It's loud, but there are some good things in it."

"Sounds a lot like you." He laughs when she slaps his shoulder playfully, grinning in spite of the look she was giving him. "I wouldn't have you change for anything in the world, though."

"Aren't you the romantic?"

"Don't let anyone else hear you say that."

"Sir Guy," a guard calls from somewhere behind them," there's a sign at the Trip Inn." Gisborne lets out a low sigh and nods that he heard him. It would mean another visit with Allan and Jas knew he didn't like being in the same rom as the other man. Sure, Allan gave up so valuable information, but he also stunk to high Heaven and had a moral compass that didn't seem to point in any one direction.

"Do you suppose it's too late to go back to the cabin and pretend the world doesn't exist?"

"As nice as that was, I'm fairly certain Vaisey would kick the door down and attempt to drag us back here by our ears," Jas answers sympathetically. The honeymoon in the woods had been one of the most relaxing weeks of Jas's life, murder mystery aside, and she missed just laying around with Gisborne and doing nothing but sleeping and talking. Gisborne's expression darkens when they make it to the top of the stairs, spotting Marian all by her lonesome as she attempted to sneak across the hall.

"Marian, where's your guard?" She comes to a reluctant stop near a row of arches that allowed in fresh air and sunlight.

"I don't know," she answers matter-of-factly," I must have lost them." Gisborne turns to the guard lagging behind them, nodding towards Marian.

"Don't let her out of your sight."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Considering the fact that you continually disobey orders and act out," Jas replies," yeah, I'd say it was necessary."

"Do I look like a threat to you?"

"Best ones never do."

"Wait!" Gisborne and Jas stop as Marian comes to stand in front of them, pale green eyes pleading for them to understand. "I'd like a day away from the castle and the guards, just  _one day_  where I don't have someone breathing down my neck." Jas scoffs but says nothing, walking a few feet away to let her husband deal with the human. He was better with people in this regard, a little more compassionate than Jas could be.

"I'm going on into town, catch up with me when you're through with her." She doesn't turn around or wait for Gisborne, knowing well enough that the man still had feeling he needed to sort out. She didn't like the fact that she was jealous of the other woman, but it helped to know that Gisborne would rather spend a week in the forest with Jas than two hours alone with Marian.

Tug was waiting in her stall when Jas walked into the stables, tossing her head back with a loud snort.

"Oh, be quiet," Jas returns, unlocking the door to step inside with the mare. "I spend almost as much time with you as I do with Guy." Tug snorts again and bites at the strap of Jas's dress. “Alright, alright, let’s get out of here.” She climbs up into the saddle, and urges Tug into a slow walk until they were out of the barn. It was weird to be riding without Gisborne or a few guards nearby, but it was also nice to just spend time with Tug.

It wasn’t a long ride to the nearby tavern, Jas dismounting and leading Tug through the crowded market to avoid stepping on people. Most of the humans scrambled to get out of her way, but a few of the children gave bright smiles and called out greetings to Jas. She smiled back at them, but stayed quiet as she approached the Trip Inn. It was funny that Gisborne chose this place to have the secret meetings considering this was the place he’d dragged her out of last year.

“Sylvia,” Jas greets once she was inside, Tug tied up outside to avoid her wandering off. The pretty serving woman turns at Jas’s voice, her blue eyes glancing around for Gisborne. “It’s just me right now.”

“Well, your boy isn’t here yet.”

“Any ideas of where he might be?” Sylvia moves on to the next table, clearing it of tankards with Jas trailing after her.

“Haven’t seen hide nor tail of him since early this morning, Ranger.” She glances around to make sure no one was listening before meeting Jas’s stare again. “I’ll send one of the lads to you as soon as he shows up if you want.”

“Nah, just tell him I don’t appreciate being stood up.” With a sigh, Jas slides a silver coin to the other woman. “Gisborne will be by soon enough with the rest. If he asks, tell him I’m out shopping.”

“I always do.”


	86. Witch Trials

The tension in the room was almost a palpable thing as they waited to figure out why Henry couldn’t seem to form complete thoughts, the man in question sitting up on the narrow bed and staring around dumbly. Matilda stood off to the side, tense even as she tried to force herself to relax, Blight taking his sweet time in scrubbing his hands. He had this little smirk on his face, like this was something he’s been after for ages, but all Jas wanted to do was punch him in the throat.

“Get on with it,” Vaisey finally explodes, making Blight jump and drop the soapy rag. The incompetent quack comes to stand in front of Henry, feeling along the man’s throat right under his jaw.

“Your Majesty,” Henry manages, swallowing thickly. Blight pulls back in surprise, gaze switching between the sick man and the Sheriff.

“He’s not the King, you twit.” Henry turns his gaze to Vaisey, looking almost desperate as he asks if Vaisey is his mother. _Wow, this guy either has the world’s ugliest mother or he’s completely bonkers_. “What the hell is wrong with him? Somebody, I don’t care who, give me some damn answers!”

“Too much blood loss would be my guess,” Matilda offers, a little too casual. Sure, it could be another way to piss off Vaisey, but Jas very much doubted it. Blight makes a noise of offense, moving over to examine the things Matilda had requested, picking up a stone pestle. Everyone watches on with vague interest as Blight touches the tip of his tongue against the stone, spitting quickly afterwards.

“She’s given him poison!”

“What reason would I have for doing that? All I want is to get back to my Rosa and Sheriff Shit for Brains over here made it clear that would only be possible if I fixed your mistakes, Blight.”

“But you were also the one to bring Robin into the world.”

“She’s probably helped bring a lot of kids into the world,” Jas snaps, arms crossed,” she’s the only person around here with more brains than a rock.”

“But she didn’t keep in contact with those other children. I’ve heard that she often made trips to Locksley when the boy was small and sickly.” Jas scoffs, pushing off the wall to come stand beside Matilda. It honestly wouldn’t surprise her if the midwife was in cahoots with Hood, but she was sassy and Jas liked that. An expression of dawning realization on Vaisey’s face had her letting out a long sigh.

“Help, help,” Vaisey mocks, a hard stare leveled at Matilda,” there’s someone there. That was nice work, you could’ve been an actor in another life.” Gisborne and the others start forward, Jas standing behind Matilda so that she was caged in.

“You’ve given him something to muddle his thoughts, haven’t you?”

“It was just to help him sleep while I examined him,” she tries, but no one was buying it.

“Then give him something to reverse it,” Vaisey commands, voice deceptively soft.

“No.” Matilda’s shoulders slump for the first time since Jas met her, the posture announcing her resignation as she shakes her head. She wouldn’t do it even though she knew this approach would be a death sentence. If she died now, then her daughter and grandchild might join her soon afterwards, but she was loyal and she was proud. _How any mother could do this is beyond me._

“Congratulations Matilda, you’ll be the first person in the last six years to be tried for witchcraft.” Jas’s eyes go wide at the proclamation, looking at Vaisey like he was the dumbest man in all the realms. Matilda makes a soft sound, low in her throat, but she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of crying.

“No,” Jas states firmly, shaking her head. “You can’t do this.”

“Why do you care, Took? You’ve made it very clear that you don’t care one whit about us humans.”

“I _don’t_ , but I’ve seen witch trials. The things you humans put innocent men and women through disgust us Rangers, you act little better than demons.” Vaisey shrugs and snaps his fingers, but Jas uses her telekinesis to hold the guards in place against the doors. “She’s human and you can ask Gisborne if you don’t believe me.” Gisborne raises his brows a fraction, caught off guard.

“And how would he know?”

“Because he’ll be able to smell it on her.”

“Do you have an amazing sense of smell, Gisborne?” The taller man shakes his head, sending Jas an inquisitive look. “I didn’t think so either.”

“If she were a witch, then she’d smell like murky water. Every supernatural creature has a specific scent, even you humans do. Now, humans can’t distinguish it, but Rangers and the like can.” She nods towards her husband, meeting and holding his stare. “Even those that only have a brand can smell a faint difference.”

“It doesn’t matter if she’s a witch or not, Took. What really matters is that she’s made me angry and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to put Henry in his right mind. Now, you can either let my men go or I can just have Gisborne throw you over his shoulder and escort you back to your chambers. Which will it be?”

“I’m not letting you do this.”

“Right, second option it is. Gisborne, if you would do the honors.”

“Took,” he tries as he takes a step forward,” just let us do this. You probably won’t even remember her in a couple of years.” Jas shakes her head stubbornly, standing protectively in front of Matilda.

“It’s not happening while I can help it,” Jas snarls, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Gisborne saw it, but he also knew that she wouldn’t hurt him for anything in the world. “Please, Guy, don’t do this. You won’t ever get it off your conscious.”

“I’ve done a lot worse than accuse a woman of witchcraft.” Jas didn’t have time to move before Gisborne scooped her up, hefting her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, her concentration shattering and allowing the guards to latch onto Matilda. “Stop struggling, Took!”

“No, let me go!” She wriggles and squirms in his hold, but he doesn’t release her until they’re in their bedroom, dropping her onto the large bed with barely a grunt. She goes to lunge forward only to have Gisborne seat himself on top of her, using their sheet to bind her hands to a bedpost in spite of her biting and bucking beneath him.

“That’s enough,” he finally roars down at her, angrier than she’s ever seen him. “Why do you suddenly care about a single human, Took? You didn’t care when we cut those tongues out on your second day here or the men you’ve tortured since coming here! What makes that midwife so damn important to you?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the midwife, I care about what that idiot is going to do to her! You’ve never seen the torture that she’ll be put through or heard the screams and be able to do nothing about it! You’ve never been chained down and forced to watch as a loved one is bound and has a hundred pounds of rocks ready to fall on her at any moment!”

“And how do you know? You’ve barely done any traveling in six years, you said so yourself!”

“My sister-in-law is a Banshee that lost her temper in Salem, Gisborne. She was seven months pregnant and was nearly murdered right in front of me! She would’ve died had Flynn not showed up when he did, so don’t you _dare_ say I don’t know what happens!” His anger falters for a second, showing empathy, but then his temper took back over and he stood up. “This will be the biggest mistake of your life!”

But Gisborne didn’t look back as he left the room.

* * *

 

“What are you doing here,” Robin demands as he and the others run into Jas on the path to Locksley. “Shouldn’t you be watching an innocent woman be drowned with your husband?”

“Hard to do that when my husband tied me to the bad,” she sneers. “I stood up to Vaisey about this and he ordered Gisborne to detain me. Too bad for them that it’s not very hard to untie Gisborne’s knots.”

“Why would you stand up for a human?”

“Help me save her and you might find out.” Robin shrugs, climbing up in the saddle behind Jas and letting her take the lead. The few peasants that were on the road quickly dived to the side to avoid being trampled, Jas only urging Tug to go faster. They didn’t have time to worry about random peasants when another was being drowned this very moment. “You humans never cease to amaze me sometimes.”

“How’s that?”

“You hold a woman under water and only decide she’s innocent if she drowns. I mean, Rangers are pretty fucked up, but you humans really take the cake where dumb decision making is concerned.” She shakes her head, reigning Tug in once they make it through the woods. There were tall reeds and grass ringing this side of the pond, offering shelter as Jas and Hood’s gang crawled over to the pond. Gisborne and the others were on the other side, watching as poor Matilda is strapped into a chair and dunked under water at Vaisey’s command.

“Will, do you have it?”

“Yeah,” Will nods, bringing out a hose and a small bellows. “Who’s gonna go in and help her breathe?”

“I will,” Robin and Jas say at the same time, then share a look afterwards.

“I’ll do it, she trusts me,” Robin states.

“Yeah, but I won’t need to come up for air every two seconds,” Jas shoots back. “I can’t die by drowning as long as my master needs me around and you need to stay up here to make sure your band of dimwits stay on task.”

“That’s a great idea.” Jas rather thought so and she was just about to take the hose when Robin elbowed her out of the way and took it himself. “Make sure your husband doesn’t slaughter my men while I’m under.” And then he was sliding into the green water, disappearing from sight in just seconds as he swims out to the middle.

“Is he always so…”

“Brave,” Will asks.

“Self-sacrificing,” Allan adds on.

“Moronic,” Much provides with a dry smile.

“That’s the one I was lookin’ for,” Jas nods, tapping the side of her nose. “Yeah, he’s a genuine moron with no sense of self-preservation. Reminds me of my older brother actually.”

“I thought that other Ranger was your twin.”

“Dash is, yeah, but I have an older brother as well. Flynn is the most rational out of the three of us, so he’s the one that got promoted to First Ranger.” She was proud of her big brother, he was the one that always stood by her side even when she screwed up royally. “Here she comes.” Matilda comes out of the water with a violent cough, trying to expel the water from her lungs.

“Weasel-faced whore’s son,” she screams at them. Vaisey just laughs in return, actually getting a kick out of doing this. Jas could understand it, the thrill that came with holding another person’s life in your hands, but she couldn’t stand the thought of witch trials after what happened in Salem. At Vaisey’s command, she’s dropped back into the water and Will starts pumping the bellows again to provide fresh oxygen. She stayed under longer this time, not by much, but it would be enough to cause unconsciousness without air. She was limp for a moment when she was brought back up, everyone watching with baited breath and then jumping when she let out a loud scream and flung her hair back. “With my last breath, I curse all of you! May snakes feed on your tiny brains!”

“That woman is my favorite.”

“Yeah,” Allan grins,” Matilda’s great.” Allan’s expression sobered as he peers at the people seated across the pond, nodding at them. “It’s gonna be hard to take Henry without killing him.”

“Don’t talk about this in front of the Ranger,” Much hisses, sending Jas a distrustful look. “Of course, that probably doesn’t matter since one of you two has already informed her and Gisborne about what we’re doing.” Will slaps his shoulder hard enough to actually draw Jas’s attention from her husband.

“Keep your accusations to yourself,” Will shoots back at him. “If anyone here’s a traitor, then you’re the likely candidate since Robin tells you everything.”

“Y’all realize we only know your plans because you talk loudly while planning, right,” Jas lies, raising a brow as she looks at the three men. “Anyone strolling through the woods would find out Robin’s ready to break in and steal the Sheriff’s underwear, they just have to avoid stepping on twigs to keep from being spotted. I’ve walked by I don’t know how many times and overheard your plans simply because Robin was being dramatic.”

“You’re lying.”

“You snore loudly, Allan sleeps with his ass pointed in the air, Robin mumbles about Marian in his sleep, and Much likes to fry up squirrels while pretending they’re chicken. Did I miss anything?” The trio share a look, then glance back at Jas. “And if you really want to snag Henry, then you better get going while those bumbling buffoons are counting down.” Gisborne, Blight, and Vaisey were all counting down to when Matilda would be allowed to breathe again, the perfect time for the idiots on Jas’s left to sneak Henry away. “Get goin’, I’ll help Robin and Matilda out.”

“How do we know this isn’t some trick?”

“If I wanted to trick you, I wouldn’t be kneeling in the damn mud and getting my dress dirty to do it.” Much clinches his jaw, but he knows Jas was right and led the other two away from the pond. They wouldn’t have to be too subtle about it, everyone was still focused on where Matilda was supposed to be, so they didn’t notice three people coming to crouch behind Henry’s chair.

“And bring her up,” Vaisey was shouting, the chair rising out of the water as Henry’s went backwards. The gasps were audible when the chair comes up empty, Matilda and Robin coming out of the water on Jas’s side unseen.

“Y’all look like shit.”

“Oh, shut it,” Matilda snaps, continuing towards the woods in a hunched over run. Robin paused long enough to shake Jas’s hand.

“Go on, your idiots should be on their way towards the camp by now.”

“I don’t suppose you’re gonna tell me why you decided to help us,” Robin says, head tilted to the side.

“If I did that, then I’d seem like a nice and caring person.”

“Oh right, can’t let that spoil your reputation as evil and soulless.”

“Exactly, now get going. And Hood?” He turns to look back at her, soaking wet and shivering in the breeze. “Tell anyone about this and you’re a dead man.” Robin grins and winks, sprinting off after Matilda as Gisborne and Vaisey start shouting on the other side. Satisfied that her job was done, Jas stands up and walks around the pond to join the others, smirking as the guards begin to comb through Locksley in search of Henry.

“Took,” Vaisey snarls when he spots her amongst the chaos. His face is red and splotchy in places from his anger, hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stormed around the small platform that held three chairs. He looked absolutely furious and that was nearly enough to make Jas giggle. “You’re responsible for this, you brat!”

Jas just gives a dramatic bow in return. 


	87. Late Dances and Apologies

Gisborne just wanted to collapse into bed as he shuffled into his rooms, muscles sore and aching after a long afternoon spent chasing after outlaws. His wife hadn’t helped matters, always getting in the way whenever they got close. He loved her more than anything, but she was a real pain in the ass when she wanted to be.

“Took,” he calls out when he doesn’t spot her in the sitting room. “Are you in here?” He moves into the bedroom, finding only a piece of parchment resting on his pillow. Rolling his eyes, he walks over to his side of the bed and picks it up, scanning the message written in the sloppy cursive Took was known for. “Meet me in the in the Great Hall,” he reads aloud. That would mean another trip down all those stairs, not something he was looking forward to. “She better be happy I love her.”

Gisborne drops the note back onto the bed before leaving his rooms and a steaming hot bath behind him. Why did she want to be dramatic when he’d be happy to exchange apologies and pass out? He was exhausted and still a little mad at her from the argument. He understood why she fought him, he understood all too well how trauma effected people, but that didn’t mean she should cause such a fuss in front of everyone they knew.

He was still grumbling under his breath when he came to a stop on the balcony that overlooked the Great Hall.

Gisborne’s breath catches in his throat when he spots his wife, taking in the gold ballgown she wore that swayed whenever she moved and the way her curls fell freely down her back, tight and springy. She looked radiant and the shy smile she was sending his way made him want to gather her up in a hug and never let her go.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” she says as he comes down the steps. “I convinced Vaisey to let me use this room for an hour or so.”

“By  _convinced_  do you mean you dangled him out his bedroom window,” he inquires with a half-smile.

“Is there a better way to go about convincing people?” She shrugs a shoulder, bare since the straps of the dress hugged her upper arms. He loved the color on her, the way it seemed tailored to her strong form and made the light brown of her skin stand out nicely. “Anyway, I remembered you asking me what song I’d play at my wedding.”

“That’s right, you never did give me an answer.” He comes to stand in front of her, careful not to step on the full skirt of the gown. “I presume that you’re about to.” She nods, holding out a sheet of paper for him to take and he does so, reading over the lyrics. “I read this one during our honeymoon when you were sleeping. I thought it was some sort of poem.”

“Nope, it’s one of my favorite songs. You feel up to singing it with me?”

“It’d be my honor, Lady Gisborne.” He takes one of her gloved hands and gives a formal bow, Took giving him a curtsy in response just like the ladies at court would.

“I know it’s not the most conventional wedding song, but…” She shrugs, resting one hand on his shoulder while he rested his free hand on her waist, leading her in a simple dance. It was a lot of swaying, but it would get more intricate as it went along, twirling and lifting and dancing in circles that would have most people dizzy.

“Just start us off, love.”

“ _Tale as old as time, true as it can be. Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly_.” He’s heard Took sing before, all kinds of songs, but this one held an emotion that made him want to tear up. She really did love him, she didn’t think he was some kind of awful beast like his little sister and everyone else did. _“Just a little change—small, to say the least—both a little scared, neither one prepared, beauty and the beast.”_

“ _Ever just the same, ever a surprise,_ ” Gisborne picks up, spinning her around and then bringing her close,”  _ever as before, ever just as sure as the sun will rise. Tale as old as time, tune as old as song._ ” They set the rhythm of the dance, perfectly in sync as they moved around the room.

“ _Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change—”_  Here, she winks flirtatiously and he grins widely in return “— _learning you were wrong. Certain as the sun rising in the east.”_

 _“Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, beauty and the beast,”_  they sing together, slowing down and coming to a complete stop with sunlight shining down on them. _“Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, beauty and the beast_.”

And then Gisborne was kissing her with everything he had.


End file.
